Deal with the Devil
by Taintless
Summary: Two Dark Lords and just one girl. Just what is Hermione going to do? A story of betrayal, jealousy, love and power...THE END! This is the final chapter! An unexpected ending, to be sure!
1. Deal

She just couldn't believe she had got her belly button done. Pierced. Her belly button! It was just so unlike her.

Hermione had, through the summer, went through a brief bout of rebellion. Nothing drastic, of course. She still was Hermione Granger. But for about two weeks, she didn't do any homework, she finally gave into her mother's attempts for Hermione to get something done with her hair and she got her belly button pierced.

Maybe it was because of all the chaos at the end of fifth year. Sirius's death effected them all, she supposed, in different ways. For her, anyway, it made her think deeply about life. So, just for two small weeks, she had let her heart rule her head.

"Those boyfriends of yours will drop down dead when they see you," her mother doted.

Her mother had become increasingly annoying since Hermione's rebellion. Her mother had always hoped for a daughter who she could shop with, and buy girlie dresses and matching handbags for and Hermione, with her frizzy hair and love of books, had always been a bit of a disappointment.

Now her mother seemed extremely keen to convert her into a Pansy Parkinson, not that her mother knew who Pansy Parkinson was.

Hermione stopped to correct her mom. "Boy," She paused, "Friends. Two separate words, mom."

"Hmm, whatever you say, Honey. You'd want to get packing," her mother's eyes had glazed over, refusing to believe her daughter. Hermione hated when she did that.

Hermione shook her head, refusing to get into one of her frustrated moods, and began packing. She was leaving for Hogwarts tomorrow.

''''''''''''

The platform had the same cosy feeling as it always did. Hermione felt the same anxious and excited feelings sweep through her as she looked at the train that was going to lead her to her school.

She was sad that she was leaving her parents of course. But not that sad. Hermione knew she belonged in the Wizarding world. She was a witch after all.

She looked around for her friends, worrying that maybe they were already on the train or perhaps they were going to miss the train and she'd have to go on her own and then they'd turn up in some flying object, maybe an elephant, like in second year and get expelled and she'd have to spend her whole school years alone and hang out with uneducated people on her spare time.

Hermione was a compulsive worrier.

She didn't see them so much as hear them.

"Harry! Ahh!" A shout of bewilderment and fear could be easily traced back to Ron Weasley.

"Ron, are you okay?" Harry's concerned voice made Hermione smile.

She leaned across to see what had happened. Ron had tripped over his robes that were miles too long for him and had flocks of underpants around him from a bag he had dropped.

"It's these robes. They're Percy's old ones. They're way too big for me!"

Hermione walked to the two boys and lifted up a pair of underpants. "Maybe these shouldn't be left out for public show, Ron."

Ron looked up at her with squinting eyes. Harry caught her in a bear hug then backed away. "Wait! You look totally different."

Ron was going red. "You look, er," Ron's voice trailed off.

They both stared at her with wide eyes.

"Ron," Hermione hissed. When she felt nervous, she got bossy. "Get up off the ground. Harry, let's help get these underwear into a bag."

"It's still her all right," Ron said with a grin only a Weasley could pull.

"Let's get a carriage," said Harry, still looking at her with a stupefied expression.

They all sat down. Harry and Ron sat opposite her and stared.

"Would you two stop? I felt good before I met up with you. What's wrong?"

"It's, er, you look so, uh, nice," Harry tried to explain and failed.

"So different," Ron imputed.

Hermione smiled, "Well, that was the point."

Now that she was sitting down, she looked at them both. They hadn't really changed at all. Ron and Harry were both a lot taller than her but what was new? Harry's hair badly needed a cut and Ron needed to wash his face.

Hermione grinned at them. "I missed you two so much!"

"Yeah," Harry said. "So did I. Dumbledore wouldn't let me send owls or receive any in case Voldemort found out where I was. Of course he already knows. I really missed you, guys. So, tell me about your summer."

Ron sighed. "I tried sending a couple of letters but my stupid owl," Ron rattled the cage at this point, "wouldn't go anywhere. He circled around the house a couple of times and that was it. I had to do loads of chores for mom. She wouldn't leave me out at all because of You-Know-Who being back."

Hermione thought about this for a bit. "Are you scared," she asked, mainly to Harry. "because he's back?"

Harry shook his head. "I'm not going to think about it, really. When's Dumbledore's around, we'll be okay."

Hermione shrugged away her feelings of unease. Ron asked her about her summer.

"I really just hanged around with Phil," she said and instantly stopped. She hadn't told them about Phil yet.

"Phil?" Ron replied. Two red dots appeared on his cheeks.

"Um, my muggle boyfriend," Hermione said and grinned sheepishly.

The two boys looked out their windows. Ron made a noise that sounded distantly like, "Oh."

Hermione leaned back in her sit and took out a book. Her mind drifted and the words on the thick page wavered.

She didn't even know she had fallen asleep until she jolted awake.

"Hi Harry! Hi Ron! Hi Hermione!" Neville Longbottom's excited voice boomed through the carriage.

"Wow!" he exclaimed, looking at her. "You look nice!"

"Thanks." She looked at him. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing!" Neville looked embarrassed. "Oh, it's just Malfoy at me again. I'm not even going to look at him this year."

"Come on," Ron said while Harry lifted up his wand like a sword. "He's not going to get away with it this time."

Hermione nodded. Neville made some complaints which, Hermione noted, nobody paid much attention to.

''''''''''''

Hermione had to admit, although Malfoy was an ignorant snob, he was a good-looking ignorant snob. Platinum blonde hair and a compact body. And a nasty smile that could make girls go weak at the knees. Yeah, he looked good.

He looked up at them as they entered his carriage.

"Oh look, Longbottom's gone told on me to Scarface. Weasley's going to sort me out with that wand of his, I suppose," he sneered. "Want to do that slug curse again? It worked a treat the last time."

He turned to look at Hermione last. She met his eyes with a cold glare.

"And then there's the know-it-all Mudblood," he said after a moments pause and turned his back on her. "Everyone watch out. They might hurt me." His voice was smothered in sarcasm.

Harry raised his wand.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Malfoy said.

"And why's that?"

"Because Goyle and Crabbe are right behind you," Malfoy sneered.

Ron and Harry glanced briefly behind them to see the two gorilla-like boys. "What's wrong, Malfoy? Can't defend yourself? Need them to protect you?"

"Hardly," Malfoy sneered.

Then the carriage started to shake from side to side violently.

"It's You-Know-Who!" A terrified scream came from somewhere in the train but everyone heard it. "He's attacking the train."

Nobody moved. Everyone was still.

Malfoy's cold voice broke through the silence. "Don't be stupid. The Dark Lord's not here. If it's anyone, it's some supporters."

"Why would they want to attack the train?" Seamus asked, Irish accent heavy in his voice along with fear.

"Why else? Because _Harry Potter _is here."

Malfoy grinned as everyone scrambled away from Harry except for his two best friends.

"I want to be around when they come get you," Malfoy started but was cut off when a large thud sounded.

Even Malfoy had the decency to look alert now. Everyone did. Hermione could hear her blood rushing in her ears.

The train was stopping, Hermione realised. She hadn't noticed it had been slowing down but it had been and now the train was barely moving.

"Harry, mate!" Ron turned to his best friend with a terrified expression, "Run!"

Harry hesitated for just an instant but it was too late.

Dark hooded people appeared from both doors of the carriage.

They were surrounded.

Every student scrambled out of their ways, pushing themselves into the carriage's walls, trying to become invisible.

Hermione couldn't move but she felt Ron knock her back.

And Harry stood, on his own, in the middle of the carriage, facing the Dark hooded people.

He pulled out his wand suddenly and tried to say something. It was a desperate move, completely useless.

Two of them grabbed him by the arms. He tried to kick them but he couldn't do anything. Two others stayed behind while one lead the way out of the carriage door and into the outside. Harry didn't shout or scream anymore. Hermione met his green eyes and instantly understood.

He'd given up. He knew there was no point.

And his eyes were saying Goodbye.

He was looking at Ron as well. A silent farewell.

Her voice caught in her throat. Ron's grip on her wrist was painful. Tears were in her eyes as the hooded men passed by them and into the outside.

Nobody moved. Nobody talked. But everybody knew that Harry was being taken to Lord Voldemort where he would be tortured and then killed.

She finally got out of her state of shock and screamed after him. "Harry! Harry!"

She fell, unable to support herself and then Ron had hold of her and she was crying into his shoulder. She didn't know what was happening or what to do. All she knew was that she was gasping on Ron's hard shoulder, choking on her tears and Ron was whimpering too, and everybody was watching them in silence.

''''''''''''''

__

TWO DAYS LATER

Hermione was walking like a zombie. Ron was behind her, unusually silent. Things hadn't been the same since two days ago. Harry was gone and there was nothing anybody could do about it.

"Why isn't Dumbledore doing anything?" Hermione whirled around to Ron. "He's just sitting there, doing nothing!"

"What can he do?" Ron offered weakly.

"Something! Anything! It's Harry we're talking about! We have to save Harry!"

"How? What can we do?" Ron said, his voice soft. "For all we know, he could be…" Ron didn't finish.

"That's bull! Voldemort will keep him alive for ages! He'll torture him and then…"

Hermione broke off as a new set of tears threatened to spill. Then she stepped into her room. "Anyway, thanks for walking me back. Be careful. Bye." She slammed the door in his face.

"Hermione…" Ron looked at the door that had just been closed and shut his eyes. What was he supposed to do? He was useless. He didn't know what to say to her. Because the truth was they were probably never going to see Harry again.

God… Never see Harry again.

After being friends for five years, it was impossible to believe. But, even if Ron did know where the hell that Harry was, what could he do then? Who could face Voldemort?

Harry, that's who. Harry would be able to beat him. He's done it already.

But Ron didn't believe that now. Things were different. Voldemort was back and he was powerful. Just as powerful as he had been before.

Ron couldn't think about it anymore. It hurt his head too much.

''''''''''

Hermione wasn't prepared for what happened next. She'd gone straight to her bathroom and prepared a bath for herself. She poured in some nice smelling stuff and relaxed for a couple of minutes, trying to forget everything. She washed her hair and dried herself off, feeling a bit better after her wash.

A bath always helps, she thought, and draped her warm bathrobe around herself, putting her hair up in a towel.

And then she went into her room and stopped in the doorframe suddenly.

Malfoy was lying on his back with his hands under his head on _her_ bed.

"Hello Granger."

"What are you doing here?" she shouted. "Get out!"

Everything about his sneering face reminded her of what had happened on the train.

"No," he said, looking completely comfortable. "I think I'll stick around here for a while."

"Malfoy! Get out!"

"Not until I talk to you," he said with a smirk.

"What do you want to talk about? I'm really not in the mood for a fight!" She felt like she was about to fall. This was so strange…

"Oh yes, you're not in the mood. Such a shame what happened to Harry, isn't it?" His voice was patronising.

"Why, you evil…" Then she stopped, and looked at his proud face. Her tone changed. "You knew, didn't you? That they were coming? That they were going to get Harry?"

"Of course. My father was in charge of it. I know everything." he stopped and smirked into her totally shocked face. "Oh, I probably shouldn't have said that."

"You know everything? Do you know where Harry is?" She wasn't shouting anymore.

"Yes."

"We got to tell Dumbledore," she said, suddenly frantic.

"Now, _we_ don't," he said, obviously amused.

"But," she said and looked at him, totally confused. She had nothing else to say. Weakly, she tried to understand. "Malfoy?"

"I'm not telling Dumbledore," he said in the same amused tone.

"But what about Harry?" she pleaded hopelessly.

"I don't give a damn about Harry," he said nonchalantly and without shame.

"Why are you here? What do you want to do? Okay, you know. You're not telling anyone."

"I'll tell you," he said, eyes glinting oddly in the light.

She froze in mid-tantrum. "You'll tell me?"

"I'll tell you everything I know. But you'll have to do a couple of things for me first."

"I… please tell me everything, Malfoy."

"I will. But firstly, do we have a deal?"

"Whatever. I'd do anything for Harry."

"Good," he grinned. "Then, we have a deal."

Hermione's heart sank. Maybe she shouldn't have agreed so readily.

''''''''''


	2. Trickery

"Okay," she said, arms wrapped around her because of the cold. "I'm here. What do you want, Malfoy?"

It was an hour after they'd made the deal. He said he'd give her an hour to get changed then they were going to the Whomping Willow.

So here she was. Outside with Malfoy, at sometime after midnight, by the mad tree.

"Okay, firstly, my name is Draco. Not Malfoy."

"So?" she barked.

"So call me Draco."

She shrugged. "I think of you as Malfoy."

"I don't care. Call me Draco. People call my father Malfoy."

Hermione grinned. "That's just 'cause they can't pronounce his first name."

"Purebloods can," he returned. "And you can't talk to me like that because then I'm not telling you anything."

"So I have to be nice to you, even when you're nasty to me?" Hermione asked.

"Exactly," she couldn't see much in the dark but she could see the smug grin rested on his face.

"So, can you tell me where Harry is now? Since I've been ever so nice? Please?"

"No," he told her. "Now, I want to see your belly button."

"WHAT?"

"Your… Belly…. Button," he said slowly, as if talking to an infant.

"Why?"

"Because you got it pierced. I heard Pansy and her friends talking about it."

"You really don't know anything, do you? This is just some weird game you and the gorillas are playing. For Merlin's sake, one of my best friends could be dead right now."

"Yes, Potter _could_ be dead. I mightn't know anything. But are you really planning to take that chance?" he sneered at her and watched as her eyes admitted defeat.

Hermione sighed and slowly lifted up her top an inch to show him her belly button.

He looked at it for a while. She felt uncomfortable, as if showing him more than her belly. Why is Malfoy… Draco doing this? She thought. I should be in bed now.

Does he really know where Harry is?

"Okay, now. Tomorrow we have that potions test," he said.

"Yes. Chapter twelve."

"I want you to fail it," he told her. "Badly."

"But I studied," she said matter-of-factly. She had, for three and a half hours.

"Exactly."

"Please," she said, adopting a lower tone. "Tell me one thing. Is Harry still alive?"

Malfoy answered her. "Yes."

"You know that for sure?"

"Yes."

Hermione looked at him closely. It was strange but she did believe him. It seemed as if Malfoy did know some things.

''''''''''''''''''''

The day was passing slowly. She had failed her Potions Test with flying colours as Malfoy had requested and she felt awful after it.

At lunchtime, Malfoy dragged her into a corridor she'd never seen before.

"Malfoy! You gave me a heart attack!"

"It's Draco. Try and remember that, Mudblood."

She opened her mouth, snappy comeback ready when she suddenly said, "Sorry, Draco."

He sneered, happy. "You're learning."

"What is it you want?" she said, trying to keep her voice light.

"Here," he handed her a small package. White powder was inside.

"Don't worry, Granger. It's not drugs." Seeing the look of relief on her face, he continued. "I just want you to slip it into Weasly's drink."

Her eyes widened and her mouth opened. She took a deep breath and said, "But-"

"Just do it. No questions."

He walked off; smirking to himself as he left her dumb founded.

''''''''''''''''

Hermione could feel Malfoy's eyes on her at dinner.

"Ron," she said, leaning over to him. "You'd do anything for Harry, wouldn't you?"

He nodded but looked afraid as if she wanted him to do something like fight the Dark Lord himself right at that moment only equipped with his knife, fork, leg of chicken and his teacup.

"And you know, I'd do anything for Harry as well. Something I wouldn't normally do. Maybe something that'll puzzle you. I don't know if you understand. I just need to get my best friend back."

He nodded, still looking at her, searching her face for a clue of what she meant.

"That's all I wanted to say," she said. He smiled at her, somewhat meekly, and turned back to his conversation with his brothers.

She slipped the stuff into his drink and hoped Malfoy didn't give her something that'd kill Ron.

Ron took a sip of his drink.

''''''''''''''''''''

Ten minutes had passed. She thought nothing was happening. Ron didn't seem to be acting any different.

She looked over at Malfoy but he had his eyes fixed on Ron.

And then Ron began swelling up.

Hermione turned to her red headed friend and watched as Ron got fatter and fatter. The chair broke underneath him and he fell on his bottom. He continued growing. Neville was nothing size-wise compares to the new Ron.

"Ron!" she cried, grief stricken.

He looked terrified behind his swollen cheeks.

It was horrible. Ron had stopped growing now. Silence rang through the hall and then suddenly, everyone started laughing.

Guilt hit Hermione right through the heart. She couldn't help Harry and now she had made everyone laugh at Ron. What kind of a friend was she?

She could hear Malfoy laughing from the Slytherin table.

'''''''''''''''

"Hermione," Ron's voice called out through the hallway. She turned. He was back to his normal size, thank Merlin.

"Hermione, did you do that? Did you make me balloon up?" Ron's voice was oddly serious.

She didn't answer.

"Why would you do that?" Ron barked. People were stopping and looking at them. Malfoy was there.

She still didn't answer.

"Because I'm a bad influence on her," Malfoy said now, walking up and putting his arm around her.

She didn't move. She didn't know what to do. She just knew she had to play along.

"Hermione?" Ron's eyes were as big as golf balls.

Malfoy shot her a glance.

"Yes," Hermione answered.

"I thought you were with that muggle? Phil?"

Malfoy looked disgusted. "Hardly. My Mudblood knows better than that. Isn't that right?"

"I hate Muggles," her voice sounded thick. A lot of people were gathered around.

Ron looked disgusted. But, what really bothered Hermione was the amount of hurt evident in his eyes. He stormed off.

"Maybe you should go talk to him," Malfoy suggested lazily.

She nodded and shrugged off his uncomfortable arm. She walked away but she could still hear Malfoy's cold voice. "Am I with the Mudblood? Hell no. But she has been looking hot lately and she's good in bed."

Hermione practically ran through the hallway. She didn't go to Ron's room but to her own. She jumped onto her bed and bawled her eyes out.

She cried herself to sleep that night.

''''''''''''''''

"Granger, Granger!" A voice hissed. "Will you wake up?"

"Ugh," She grunted than saw Malfoy through stuffy eyes.

"Happy to see me?"

She groaned, looked at her bedside clock and groaned again. It was three in the morning.

"Just wanted to tell you that you did well today. You got more guts than I thought. Now you have to call up that muggle you're dating now and dump him."

Hermione felt so stupid. "And how do I do that? No electricity, remember. What am I supposed to do? Send him an owl?"

"Here." He handed her a mobile phone. "It's magically enhanced."

"You know, Ron's dad would get you for having stuff like this," she said, examining the phone with interest.

"Yes, I'm terrified." Sarcasm again. "Now, ring him."

"I'm surprised you even know what a phone is," she said with the same grim interest.

"I know a lot of things. Like where Harry is and what's happening to him." Malfoy shot back. "Now, ring."

She punched in a couple of digits and, after receiving a lot of abuse from Phil's parents, got put on the phone to Phil.

"Hey Phil."

"Hey Granger!" Phil's voice was as lively as ever, even at Three A.M. "How's it going? Why are ya calling so early?"

"He calls you Granger!" Malfoy hissed, looking tragic.

She nodded to Malfoy sharply, hoping he'd just shut up after that, and said into the phone, "Look, Phil. I think we should break up. I mean, I'm so far away and well…"

"Hey, honey," Malfoy said. "Come to bed."

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him angrily.

Phil asked, with a darker tone in his voice than she'd ever heard, "Who was that?"

"Er… he was… my…"

"Honey," Malfoy said, leaning purposely into the phone. "Come on. Who you talking to? Let's have some fun."

"Hermione?" Phil said. Crap, she thought, he called me my real name. He's really annoyed.

"Look, Phil, I've met somebody else." She pulled the phone away from Malfoy as he opened his mouth to say something else.

"Well, thanks for telling me the news. Thanks a lot!" said Phil's furious voice before he hung up.

Hermione pushed the phone back into Malfoy's hands with unnecessary force. "There. Happy? Now can you please, please go away?" She was ashamed when her voice broke.

No way am I crying in front of him, she thought.

"You know, Granger, we could get together. Just for one night. I mean, I'm here now, in the middle of the night, and everyone thinks we've already done it. Why not?"

"I wouldn't even _touch_ you, Malfoy. Anyway, I'm surprised. I mean, I am a Mudblood, after all."

"Hey, Mudblood or not, you've been looking nice lately," he said offhandedly.

She pushed him away from her. "Tell me where Harry is now!"

"Okay," he said suddenly. "Okay. But I can't tell you."

"So, I've done all this for nothing?" she screamed.

"I said, I can't tell you but I can show you," he said calmly.

"You… you're showing me where Harry is?" she asked, her voice lowered.

"If you want to see Harry, follow me," he said.

She got up out of bed and followed her, terribly curious.

She was terrified. What would she see? What would Harry be like?

__

Would he be dead?


	3. What's happened to Harry?

Ron had been awake all that night, restlessly tossing and turning.

What did Hermione think she was playing at?

Hanging around with Malfoy?

It was just so unlike her.

So, just 'cause Harry is gone, she just gives up on being good, Ron thought bitterly, what about me? Aren't we best friends as well?

Ron looked over at Harry's empty bed.

Oh God, where the hell was Harry when you needed him? He was always better with dealing with Hermione.

He flung himself out of bed.

That's it. I'm going to find out what's wrong with Hermione.

__

Even if it kills me.

''''''''''''''''

After touching the key, Hermione felt very strange. Dizzily she looked around.

It was a forest. The trees towered over her like looming shadows and Hermione felt eyes on her.

No, she wasn't imagining it. There was eyes on her.

A pair of green eyes.

"Harry!" She ran to him, abandoning Malfoy.

She was so glad to see him. He was sitting down, his back against a tree. He wasn't tied up.

"Hello Hermione," he said.

Hermione froze. Shivers crept up her back. He had said that so softly, so dangerously. He looked different too. He wasn't wearing his glasses. He was wearing all black and his scar was luminous on his forehead.

He looked handsome and dangerous. He was smiling softly. Hermione had never seen him smile like that before. It was a dangerous smile, slightly amused.

The kind of smile Voldemort would wear.

"Harry?" Her voice was so openly uncertain.

He laughed.

"Harry," she whispered and she felt like she had lost him. Like he had disappeared and left something different in his place.

She looked back at Malfoy who was wearing the same smile. His eyes were hard and piercing.

And then Hermione saw a dark hooded figure and everything hit her. She was suddenly terrified.

"I thought I said to bring both of the friends," Voldemort said in his terrifying voice.

"Weasley will be here in a minute. I saw him following us," Malfoy answered.

"Voldemort," Hermione whispered. She was in shock.

"Ahh!"

Hermione turned around to locate the shout and saw Ron with a face full of dumb bewilderment.

"Hello Ron," Harry said again and smiled.

"Harry! You're alive! You're alive!" Ron sounded like a happy young child.

"I'm bored now," Harry said, his attention riveting from Ron and Hermione. He looked up at Voldemort and asked him something.

Hermione was so full of fear and shock that the question Harry had asked Voldemort didn't register in her ears. But slowly everything snapped and she realised what Harry had just asked.

"Can I kill them now?"


	4. Helpless

Ron let out a gasp that sounded almost painful.

Hermione felt like somebody had just poured boiling hot water over her head.

"Harry!" Ron shouted again, but couldn't seem to get much more out.

Harry was still looking expectantly at Voldemort, waiting for an answer.

"Harry, Harry," Voldemort said in a mocking voice. "Don't you want to entertain your friends for longer?"

"Not particularly," Harry replied and flashed a smile.

Ron just didn't seem to get Harry's concept. "Harry? Why would you want to kill us? We're your friends!"

"Not anymore, Weasley," Malfoy spoke at last and walked to Harry's side. "Not since Harry joined our side."

He grinned at Harry who returned it. Anybody who didn't know them would think they were best friends!

Hermione stood, rooted in her spot. She couldn't think, she couldn't do anything. All that she could think was that Malfoy had called Harry Potter by his first name.

"What's wrong, Granger?" Malfoy said. His teeth glinted in the dark as he smirked at her. "You look so disappointed! I told you Harry was alive and he is! Come over here and say hello."

The three people standing before her laughed together.

"That isn't Harry," Hermione whispered.

"Sure it is," Malfoy said.

"Last time I checked, I was Harry anyway," Harry said mockingly.

"What's wrong with you?" Ron shouted, his voice high pitched and shaky. "Are you under the Imperious curse or something?"

"No, Ron," Hermione answered slowly. She knew by the look of Harry's face.

"Then what's wrong with him?" Ron shouted wildly, turning to Hermione.

"He's turned to the dark side," Hermione told Ron numbly then turned back to Harry with a disgusted look. Truth be told, she was afraid to keep her eyes off him.

Harry just laughed jovially. "See? I always said Hermione was smart."

"Not smart enough to get yourself out of this though, are you Granger?" Malfoy smirked, an agonising amount of amusement always in voice.

Voldemort had seemed amused all along but now he seemed bored. "Yes, Harry. You may kill Ron Weasley. Perhaps we should hold onto the girl. After what I've heard, she may be useful. After all the Unpure are going to be extinct soon enough. They will be hard to find."

"Well, you can always look in the mirror," Hermione spat.

"Don't you _dare_ talk to me like that," Voldemort said and held out his wand. "Crucio."

Hermione fell to the ground in pain. Panic filled her and she couldn't cope with the agony that was enveloping her. She barely noticed Ron sobbing at her side.

She did notice Harry laughing with Malfoy though.

Voldemort lifted the curse.

"Well," Hermione said to Harry, once she'd got her breath back. "The Sorting Hat did want to put you in Slytherin."

"Yes," Harry said and held out his own wand. "I wonder why. Crucio."

Hermione fell to the ground again and this pain lasted even longer than the last.

Once again, once the pain was over, Hermione got up off the ground and brushed herself off in a disgusted way.

"Oh, yes," Harry said again in his pleasant voice. "I can kill Ron now."

This was exactly at the point where Hermione wished she had remembered her wand. She had just rushed out stupidly after Malfoy because she had wanted to see Harry. Stupid, she scolded herself, just stupid.

"STOP!" A voice commanded suddenly.

But then everyone's eyes were pulled towards the approaching figure.

"Why, if it isn't Albus Dumbledore?" Voldemort said with a smile etched across his ugly features.

And there stood Dumbledore, holding out his wand, ready to fight.

Maybe, Hermione thought, I might just get out of this alive.

Casting a glance at Voldemort's deadly smile, doubt filled her.

__

Maybe.

.


	5. Death and Decisions

"Dumbledore," Ron murmured, looking like he was about to faint. His face was deadly pale. Hermione wanted to reach out and comfort him. She couldn't though. Her heart was racing and pain enveloped her from the curse. Hermione had never seen Ron cry before but big fat tears were rolling down his freckled face.

Dumbledore looked scary. Hermione barely recognised him. His jaw was set, his eyes full of anger, and his mouth in a grim smile. A strong aura of power surrounded him.

Dumbledore didn't hesitate to launch a big blast at Voldemort.

Then the fight began. Harry and Malfoy stayed out of the way, both smirking. Ron had his head buried in his hands. Hermione was just terribly confused.

Different colours of light filled the air. Harry still held that face of faint amusement. Malfoy's face showed deep satisfaction. Neither of the boys' faces displayed any fear.

The fight lasted a little less than half an hour. Nobody intervened into the fight but gradually Dumbledore and Voldemort were weakening.

"Well, I do think that is enough," Malfoy said loudly. "Don't you agree, Harry?"

"I do, Draco. I have become quite bored."

"Shall we?" Draco said, raising his wand.

"We shall," Harry replied nonchalantly, also raising his wand.

The two boys pointed their wands at Voldemort, both muttering the unforgivable curse that only Harry had lived through.

The green light enveloped Voldemort. He froze in mid air. His face showed evident bewilderment. Then his body crumbled to the ground, eventually landing sprawled out on the cold ground.

Harry and Malfoy laughed.

Dumbledore got to his feet shakily.

"Harry?" Ron said uncertainly.

"You're a hero," Dumbledore declared. "You're a hero. This was just some smart plan you and Mr. Malfoy put together. Why, Harry, I feel -"

But Hermione never got to discover how Dumbledore felt at that moment because Malfoy and Harry had both blasted Voldemort with the same curse they had used on Voldemort.

"Wrong, old man," Harry said and Malfoy laughed heartily.

Dumbledore fell to the ground, his face openly displaying disappointment.

"No!" Ron croaked, "No!" Hermione watched as Ron stumbled over to Dumbledore's body. "Professor Dumbledore! Sir! Get up! Please!" A second past and then Ron looked up at Hermione and said, "He's dead. Oh, Hermione, he's dead."

"Shut up, Weasley," Malfoy said. "We'll deal with you in a minute. Shall we call the Death Eaters?"

"We shall," Harry said, pulling up his sleeve to reveal the Dark Mark on his arm. Harry then put a finger to it and it glowed for a minute than turned black. Hermione saw that Malfoy was following Harry's example.

Instantly men dressed in dark cloaks and hoods apparated.

"Welcome," Harry said to them. "The Dark Lord is dead." Harry ignored the gasps that spread along the Death Eaters and continued steadily. "We killed him. That is to say I, Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy, killed him. We also disposed of Dumbledore."

"We are now your leaders. You will do what we say now. Do you understand?" Draco said, using the same polite tone Harry had used, as if they were talking about the weather.

"Yes, Master" came the collective and expected response.

"Draco," A voice said. Hermione knew the voice belonged to Lucius Malfoy. "Son, I am so proud -"

"Do shut up, Father," Draco replied, "or I shall have to kill you."

"Now," Harry said briskly. "Firstly we shall take over Hogwarts then attack the Ministry of Magic. Oh, I almost forgot, first Draco and I must deal with our old friends."

Harry and Draco exchanged a smirk then turned to face Hermione and Ron.

Hermione heard Ron gulp.

'''''''''''''''''

Hermione watched as the death eaters Disapparated. She couldn't meet either of the boys' eyes, she didn't have the guts, but she could feel the power and strength radiating from them.

"I'm having Granger," Malfoy said suddenly.

Harry's face became very cold, his green eyes narrowed to little slips. "Really now? Who decided that?"

"I did," Malfoy said, his tone causing shivers to race down her back.

"But," Harry stopped, "you know how I feel about Hermione. I told you."

"But I _want _her!" Malfoy seemed to be exasperated.

"I told you," Harry seemed to be shaking with fury. "I told you. I wanted her to be mine, to belong to me. It was part of the plan."

"Well," Draco turned to face Harry. "I'm changing the plan."

"You can't just do that!"

"Why not?"

Hermione watched the exchange numbly. Ron looked beyond confused.

"Draco, Hermione's mine. You can have Ron."

"Why would I _want _the Weasel? What can he possibly give me?"

"What can Hermione give you?"

Malfoy smirked. "A lot of things."

Hermione forced herself not to make a sound at that remark. Ron seemed to be fighting the same inner battle.

"Why? Why would you want Hermione? You can't possible like her! You're not attracted to her, are you?"

"So what if I am?" Malfoy kept his tone even but it made as much an effect as if he was shouting. Hermione and Ron both jumped. "I think we make quite a good pair. We're both smart, sarcastic, charming and irresistibly good looking."

"Hermione's mine. I told you that Hermione would be mine when we were planning against Voldemort. You said you'd just torture Ron!" Harry stormed.

"I won't get bored of Granger easily," Malfoy said, "but I'm sure Weasley won't last very long. You have Weasley."

"I don't care about Ron!"

"Why," Malfoy was grinning, looking like the devil himself, "don't we leave Granger decide? Who does she like best?"

"Well," Harry said impatiently, "She obviously likes me better. I mean, we were best friends for the last five years."

"I don't think that counts for much anymore. And I am much better looking."

"Hermione doesn't care about trivial things like looks."

"Every woman does," Malfoy said knowledgeably.

"How about we just let her choose? Of course, we have to make sure she tells the truth. Now where's that potion?"

Harry ceased it and both boys turned to her. "Now, Hermione, be a good girl and open your mouth."

Hermione struggled for what seemed like an eternity. Eventually Harry got fed up and used the Imperious curse on her.

Hermione couldn't break through the curse. Opening her mouth willingly, she allowed the foul tasting liquid into her mouth.

"Now, Granger, time to choose. Harry Potter, or I, Draco Malfoy?"


	6. Choosing and Choking

Hermione was having a hard time not swallowing the liquid in her mouth. She knew one of the boys would realise she hadn't swallowed the Truth Potion soon. She wasn't going to answer that stupid question. She didn't even know the answer herself.

Harry – he had been her best friend, and she had fancied him then. But now, that just made everything worse. He betrayed her and she could never forgive him for that.

Malfoy – At least he didn't try pretend he was good. Hermione had known he'd end up on the Dark Side.

She hated them both. They had just killed Dumbledore. Hermione knew that she seemed to be in a state of shock. Nothing made sense and at the moment she didn't even _care_ about Dumbledore's death.

"Hermione?" Harry crouched down to her face level wearing an impatient frown.

She looked at that face, gazing at his strong jaw, his bright green eyes, his hard features, and his scar. Her probing eyes remained at his scar, memorising off its shape and structure.

This person looked so much like Harry, but Hermione knew she had already lost her best friend. Brushing aside her brief hesitation, she spat the bright purple liquid at him.

Nobody moved for another minute. Harry's face was saturated. The only sound to be heard was the dripping of the liquid from his hair. Everyone seemed to be in a state of disbelief.

Then a ghostly laugh erupted, breaking through the tense silence. Malfoy was laughing. Hermione looked up at him but Malfoy was looking and laughing at Harry.

Harry glared up at Malfoy, who stopped laughing abruptly, then turned to Hermione with a mad glint in his eyes.

"Keep the hell away from me," she cried as he closed in on her.

"I'm going to kill you for that, bitch. I'm going to kill you," Harry lunged at her, discarding his wand and wrapping his hands around her neck.

Sheer panic overcame her. Harry was restricting her windpipe and she could no longer breathe. She was sputtering and there was tears dripping from her eyes. She was pulling at his hands with her own but her strength was draining away.

Harry wasn't wearing a grin. He didn't look menacing or angry or happy. He looked merely frustrated. Hermione was suddenly aware of the feeling of hate running through her veins. She hated Harry. He'd killed Dumbledore. This was all his fault!

She stopped struggling and spluttering to a certain degree and said, in a hoarse voice, "Malfoy."

"What did she say?" Malfoy asked.

"I don't care," Harry said.

"Malfoy," she repeated.

"She said my name," Malfoy said, and suddenly pulled Harry off her. She gasped painfully, taking in the air. Lovely, life-sufficient, beautiful air. "Well, Granger?" Malfoy said expectantly.

She looked at Ron, who was looking at his own hands, apparently trying to block out the current events. No, he wasn't looking at his hands, Hermione realised, he was looking through the gaps in between his fingers and at Dumbledore's body.

She looked at Harry who was breathing heavily and staring at her with those emerald green eyes. Then she looked at Malfoy, who was leaning against a tree, looking calm and satisfied.

"I pick Malfoy. I pick you before Harry," she managed to croak.

"I know," Malfoy said calmly. "Then it's settled, Harry. Granger's mine. Weasley's yours."

Harry narrowed his eyes at Malfoy. "I'll fight for Hermione."

Malfoy ceased Ron by the shoulders and pushed him towards Harry, saying. "Fine. Let the best man win."

Harry grabbed Ron by the arm, saying, "She will love me as much as I love her. I'll _make_ her love me." Then he stormed off, dragging Ron.

Hermione wondered if she'd ever see Ron Weasley again and reluctantly followed Malfoy, who was striding ahead of her into the night.


	7. The Perfect Ickle son and Dark Lord

"It's so big," She gasped.

"Of course," He said, as calm as a summer's day, "It's the Malfoy manor."

"I didn't think it'd be so-"

He cut in, offering words, "Magnificent, splendid, beautiful, breath taking, fascinating?"

"Large," She finished, though everything Malfoy had said was true. She just wasn't going to give him the satisfactory if knowing she thought so.

He cast her a look that would stop pigeons in mid air, but said nothing. After a few quiet moments of gawking at everything, Hermione asked awkwardly, "Malfoy? You know, they way Harry's gone a bit," Hermione couldn't finish her sentence.

Again, Malfoy was as useful as an Oxford dictionary, "Evil? Crazy? Demonic? Just like me?"

"Er, yes. How did it happen?"

Malfoy turned to her and his face was totally serious. When he spoke, it was in a low tone. "Granger, Harry's had a lot of low blows in his life. His parents are dead, and he's had to be raised by people that live like social bound gorillas. He's always had a bit of a dark side you didn't know about. The sorting hat wanted to put him in Slytherin. But then when Sirius died, it was just too much for him."

"So he just decided to join the Dark side?" Hermione cried, eyes spilling.

"If you can't beat them, join them," Malfoy smiled, back to his usual self.

"What's it like to be an evil bastard, incapable of love?" She screamed, losing it.

"I wouldn't know," He said calmly, shrugging.

She shot daggers at his back as he strode ahead of her and called out, "Mother!"

Narissca Malfoy slowly came down the stairs. Hermione watched her with wide eyes, not knowing quite what to expect.

"Oh, darling, you should have told me we had guests. I would have got myself decent," Narissca Malfoy said. Hermione thought she looked magnificent. A long mane of blonde hair tumbled down the woman's back, her skin was perfect, flawless, absent of blemishes or wrinkles.

"Hello, dear," Narissca said, offering a hand to Hermione with utmost politeness.

"Hello, Mrs Malfoy," Hermione said automatically, "How are you?"

"I'm just fine, dear. Draco, do you know where your father is? I haven't seen him at all today."

"No, mother, and I do not think he will be back anytime soon."

Hermione watched as Malfoy and his mother exchanged secretive smiles. She came to the conclusion that they did not like Lucius Malfoy very much.

"How long will our guest be staying?" Narcissa asked.

"Oh, I do not know," Malfoy answered. He smiled over at her, and said, "But do not fear. She will be here for a _long_ time."

Hermione had to restrain herself from slapping him in the face, right in front of his mother.

The first thing Hermione discovered was that Narcissa was a very lonely woman. She did not have any friends, hardly any hobbies and she had read every book in the Malfoy library that Lucius had permitted her too. Her life was controlled y her husband. She was the perfect trophy wife, beautiful and accustomed to staying in the shadows.

Malfoy, once his mother had left, dropped his polite manner and scowled at her. "Granger, I expect you to look decent now. Forget your muggle clothes and get dressed into some proper wizarding robes."

Hermione gawked at him, "Excuse me?"

"I will not be present for the next couple of days, but I expect you to care for my mother and be as polite as possible. If you are not, I shall give you to Goyle and Crabbe. Are we clear?"

"Why did you want me and not Ron?"

"Because you're pretty. You're everything I require at the moment. A pretty girl to accompany me to balls. Oh yes, Granger, balls. As the new Dark Lord, I shall be invited to many balls and parties and I will need you there. I feel Pansy will not be suitable."

"Yeah," she added, "Because her face looks like it's been hit with a saucepan."

He smirked and said, "I also need to you to take care of my mother while I am gone."

"Aww, what a sweet little son," she said sardonically.

"I also dislike Weasley's red hair very much."

"Oh, so that explains it all," she said crossly, "I'm got we got that cleared up. I feel so much better now."

"Oh, and it pissed Harry off."

"But I'm Muggleborn," she insisted.

"I am aware of that, Granger."

He didn't speak for the next few minutes so Hermione decided to continue with her questions.

"You know when Harry said he loved me? Was he serious?"

"You really haven't realised that? In the last five years, you didn't know how he felt about you?"

"No."

"Maybe you're not as smart as you think you are, Granger."

"Yet I'm still smarter than you."

"I don't see you being the new Dark Lord."

"Yes," she said calmly, "But you needed Harry for that. You couldn't do it on your own. You couldn't even kill Voldemort on your own. You needed Dumbledore for that. You're pathetic."

"I'd watch myself if I were you," Malfoy said.

"Luckily enough, Malfoy, you're not me. You're you. A loser. A pathetic spoilt ugly loser," She told him in a pleasant yet angry voice.

Malfoy whipped out his wand, smiling menacingly. "I really hoped you'd say that," he said furiously.

"You hoped I'd call you a pathetic spoilt ugly loser?" She asked innocently.

He hissed at her, "Cruc-"

"DRACO!!!!!"

Malfoy turned to face his mother. She was flushed with anger, and Hermione felt herself let out a breath she had held without realising.

"HOW DARE YOU!!!! IN MY HOUSE!" Narcissa yelled.

"This isn't your house. This is my house. I am the new Dark Lord now, mother, and I can do what I want to Granger."

"The new Dark lord?" she shrieked, "The new Dark lord!" Her eyes filled with tears and she cast him a dark disgusted look before running away.

"You're going to be a lot of trouble, Granger. You're lucky you're hot or I would have killed you a long time ago. There's a ball coming up soon. I'll keep you informed." He walked off leaving Hermione staring after him, raging.


	8. Belle of the Ball

Draco Malfoy was not around through the next week. Hermione imagined he was off doing the New Dark Lord thing. She didn't care.

She didn't care about much at the moment.

She seemed to be numb. She slept her first two days in her magnificent new bed, and finally getting up, she wandered around. She saw lots of house elves and perhaps before she would have felt bad for them. She didn't anymore.

Her life had suddenly changed and she was trying to adjust but it was hard. All of this because Malfoy had liked her new look. As for the new look, it hadn't stayed for long. Her once tame(ish) hair was back to being bushy and her once nice clothes were now replaced by wizarding robes that were not very flattering. Her skin was blotchy as she was not doing her usual hygiene routine.

While wandering around aimlessly, she came across Mrs Malfoy's bedroom. She could tell by the sounds inside that Narcissa was crying. Hermione, deciding she had gone to long without showing compassion to the unhappy lady, decided she'd go in and see if she could offer any comfort.

"Mrs Malfoy?" Hermione knocked timidly on the door.

The door was opened and Narcissa stood there, without any evidence that she had once been crying. She greeted Hermione with a smile that showed her beauty and beckoned her inside.

"Miss Granger," Narcissa said politely. "Are you enjoying your stay here?"

"Please call me Hermione." She didn't answer her question. Narcissa didn't seem to notice.

"How do you know my son?"

"From school," Hermione answered tersely.

"Oh, so you were in Slytherin too?"

"No, I was in Gryffindor," she told her.

"Oh!" Narcissa looked terribly confused but then her face cleared. "Granger? Where have I heard that name before?"

"I was once the best friend of Harry Potter."

"Oh, you and Draco were enemies?"

"Yes." Hermione nodded wearily, wishing she had stayed in her bedroom and slept. She didn't like these questions.

"What changed?" Narcissa asked.

"Nothing. I'm not here of my own free will." Hermione didn't see the point in lying.

"Oh. Oh dear," Narcissa seemed astounded. Hermione smiled thinly at her before asking for leave. Narcissa nodded absently but her voice stopped Hermione just before she had left.

"Then why are you here, Miss Granger? Why did Draco bring you here?"

"I don't know."

"Miss Granger, I have full faith in my son. I do not think he was evil. He is not You-Know-Who; he's my son. He'll do the right thing in the end."

Hermione stared at her and when Narcissa realised that Hermione did not share her point of view, she laughed and said, "Yes. Perhaps only a mother could understand."

Hermione shrugged, and left, leaving Narcissa to stare into space, thinking deeply of how to save her son.

'''''''''''''''''''

"Granger? Granger! Wake up, would you?"

Hermione opened one eye and, after seeing Draco Malfoy bearing down on her, quickly jumped up with fright.

It took her a full ten seconds to remember where and why she was in the Malfoy Manor. Finally she focused on Malfoy. There was something different about him. Same pale face. Same flawless skin. Same soulless grey eyes. Same gelled back silver hair. Same sensual mouth.

So what was different about him?

And then she realised what it was. There was a strange aura of power surrounding him, pulsating slightly. It scared Hermione and it made him seem almost inhuman.

It had been two weeks since she had last seen him. Over the last two weeks she had not achieved much. She was halfway through Hogwarts a History (She had found it in the Malfoy's Library), and her hair had succeeded in becoming wilder. She had established a relationship with Narcissa but it was a relationship full of politeness, small talk, and deep uncomfortable silences.

"Malfoy!"

"You looking nice didn't last too long, did it?" he said, raising one perfectly shaped eyebrow.

She didn't speak. She didn't want to insult him. Why? Because something about him made her palms sweat and her mouth to clamp shut.

"There's a ball coming up in two days. Could you try and look decent before then?"

She nodded.

"You're quiet," he said. "Why?"

She simply stared at him before finally giving in and opening her mouth.

"How's the new Voldemort thing, working for you?"

"It's everything I could wished for."

"Have you taken over Hogwarts?"

"Yes. Without Dumbledore, there was not much resistance."

"Did you kill many people?" she asked, her voice more calm then she had expected.

"Not too many. McGonagall is injured though and that oaf you love so dearly is in St. Mungos. You're lucky. We wouldn't have left him go if not for Weasley's bawling."

"Ron was there?"

"Yes. Harry brought him along so he could watch Hogwarts getting taken over. Very humorous, I must say. Weasley was pathetic, spluttering and yelling. I nearly killed him myself."

"So, he's alive?"

"For the moment. Granger, I have work to do which is more important than exchanging news on Weasley. So if you don't mind…?"

He strolled out with a confidence that only an arrogant git like him could possess.

If Hermione were a Slytherin, she probably would have killed him.

''''''''''''''''

"Narcissa," Hermione said. Narcissa had given her permission to call her by her first name. "Could you pass the salt?"

Narcissa past her the salt. She was terribly quiet and Hermione wished to hear her speak, even if only for a comment on the weather.

"I wonder when Draco is returning," Narcissa said.

"In two days."

"He told you and not me?"

"Well, er, he told me there was a ball in two days and that he'd come and get me for it."

"Oh," Narcissa muttered before returning to silence. Then her face broke into a smile and she said, "Oh! You'll need help getting ready for the ball! How fun!"

Hermione had to restrain herself from groaning.

'''''''''''''''''

Two days later, Hermione was still restraining the groan from leaving her lips.

Narcissa had a liking for makeup and hair and beauty. When she wasn't doing Hermione's nails, she was fussing over her hair. Narcissa had firstly tried to straighten the bush but when she had not succeeded, she had settled for long bouncy curls. Hermione liked them.

Her nails were the same colour as her robe, purple. Hermione liked the robe. It was made of a kind of material that felt like silk but was warm on the inside.

"Now, I knew there was a reason I liked you better than Weasley," said a voice from behind her.

She turned to see Malfoy standing against a wall, his arms folded. He was wearing black robes, which were quite nice on him, even if Hermione only admitted that to herself. His hair was gelled as normal but it was done with more care. That curious aura still surrounded him and when he smirked, Hermione thought he looked like the devil. Either that or a wolf in sheep's clothing.

"Hello, mother," he said to Narcissa.

She nodded stiffly back with cold civility.

"Well, we must be off. Hermione – Oh yes, I shall have to call you by first name and you by mine tonight – shall be back late so do not wait up, Mother."

He outstretched a hand to her. For a second she hesitated, but then something built up inside her. She'd been stuck in the Malfoy Manor for a long time now and she wanted to be out. Perhaps she would even see Ron at the ball.

"Oh yes," he said. "I forgot to tell you. Harry will be there."

She grasped onto his hand.

For a minute everything whirled around her but the sensation was soon over and, with a quick glance around, she knew they had arrived.

''''''''''''''''''

Malfoy, no, Draco didn't leave go of her hand. Instead he began strolling towards a group. Hermione walked along beside him, bracing herself for what was to come.

"Ah, you all made it. Let me introduce my charming company, Hermione Granger. Hermione, you know Vincent Crabbe, Gregory Goyle and Pansy Parkinson, don't you?"

"I have a vague recollection, yes," she said smilingly, before offering her hand to Crabbe and Goyle, who kissed it. She tried not to cringe and she also tried to ignore the smirk on Draco's face.

"Oh, and Pansy. How are you?"

"Oh, I'm fine. I must say, your robes are so… _cute_." Pansy kept that sweet smile on her face. Hermione didn't slap her like she should have.

"Oh, and yours are so…_slimming_," Hermione returned.

"Thank you."

"Have you lost weight?" Hermione asked innocently.

Pansy looked down at her robes then back at Hermione smiling, "I was always this slim," she said with only a tinge of menace in her voice.

"_Really_?" she said before Draco steered her away.

"No cat fights, Granger," He muttered to her, "but you did okay. Even Muggles must socialise sometimes."

She didn't reply. Her eyes were fixed on a young man ahead of her. Draco was steering her in that direction.

"Harry, Harry. How are you?" Draco said, in a patronisingly friendly way.

"I'm fine, Draco, just fine. And you, Hermione? How are you? Is Draco keeping you well?"

She kind of hated this kind of stuff. Everyone was so polite to each other even when the hate was so completely obvious.

Harry was looking very well indeed. He had the same aura of power around him as Draco did. He looked very relaxed in his black robes, and his messy hair seemed almost wild but in a good way. In a sexy way, Hermione realised, as she saw the girls at the ball checking him out. There was a confidence about him he had never before possessed.

"I'm very well, thank you. And Draco is being ever the gentleman," she answered.

Something burned in Harry's eyes that scared Hermione but he kept the small smile (which looked almost like a smirk) and nodded. Looking at them now, you would never had presumed that he had tried to kill her, or that she felt so betrayed by him that she could barely look at him. Only four people knew, three people were present and the fourth was somewhere Hermione did not know.

"How's Ron?"

"He's well. I'm sorry he couldn't come. He had other engagements."

"Oh, that's too bad," she said in a pleasantly fake voice. "Maybe next time I'll get to see him."

"I wouldn't count on it," Harry said sweetly before Draco dragged her away.

'''''''''''''''

Hermione left for the bathroom on her own. The night hadn't been too bad so far. She hadn't seen Harry since that one time, and everyone was terribly polite to her. Probably out of fear. She _was_ with the Dark Lord.

Harry hadn't gone to the ball with anyone, as far as she could tell. He seemed to stroll along on his own, offering greetings and receiving praise and compliments. Hermione could tell he loved it. He made her sick.

So when an arm reached out of one of the doors in the isolated hallway, Hermione got a fright.

But it was nothing like the fear she felt when she turned and saw Harry's face. His green eyes were burning with an incredible rage and lust, and on his lips played a small evil smile. The aura around him made Hermione feel like fainting. She was too close to him.

"Hello Hermione," he said in a soft black voice.

''''''''''''''

Oh, Cliffie!

Gotta be quick but thanks very much for all reviews! I'll stick in personal thanks in next chapter!

I've made a couple of weak changes to the story. No big changes, I just changed the first chapter a bit and got rid of a couple of mistakes present.


	9. Jealousy

"What do you want?" she asked angrily. Her arm hurt from where he had held her and as she looked upon him, she noticed further differences between him and the Harry of before. The changes bothered her, hurt her, and made her feel heavy and frustrated.

He had that new aura that Draco now had. That one associate with the use of Dark Power. Also, where were his crooked/broken glasses? His face looked… paler without them.

And his scar of his forehead was bright and noticeable. Hermione wondered briefly whether it was hurting him.

"Ron told me to say Hello," Harry said, smirking.

Since when did Harry Potter smirk? Harry grinned, Harry laughed, Harry smiled, but Harry didn't _smirk. _Malfoy smirked. Voldemort smirked. But Harry Potter hadn't. Why did he have to change?

And why was he bringing up Ron, the one subject that made Hermione weak?

"Oh?" She tried to sound offhand.

"Yes."

"And… how is Ron?"

__

Is he dead?

"Alive," Harry replied shortly.

"Well… that's good."

"He's a bit of a nuisance though. Always in the way. Always yelling. Sometimes even crying. I told him the other day you were dead. It should have been amusing, but it wasn't. Instead it was... irritating."

"Why don't you let him go?" Hermione offered, still trying to sound casual.

He slammed his hand into the wall behind her; effectively leaning over her, cornering her against the wall and making her feel trapped.

"Why?" He smiled down on her. "Would you like that?"

She looked up at him and suddenly, she was afraid. His teeth gleamed in the little light. She thought frantically of a night demon, of a vampire, swooping down into the darkness to kill her.

He was _too _close. Too close. Hermione couldn't think. He was in her face. She could smell him. She could feel the heat coming of him. Could feel his Dark Power against her skin, making her shudder.

She nodded to reply to his question, not trusting herself to talk. Her tongue felt numb in her mouth.

"I have a deal to make with you, then."

Another one? Hermione felt like she was about to faint.

''''''''''''''

Hermione left that room, feeling very shaken indeed. Harry was in front of her, walking briskly. He started talking to Lucius Malfoy.

Hermione stood there, on her own, feeling like a complete loner. She knew nobody here. She liked nobody here. They were completely different to her, practically a different race. They thought differently, they believed in different things and their morals were the complete opposite of hers.

As Hermione stood on her own, she wondered what the hell she was going to do…

Harry's words still echoed in her head.

__

"Then spy for me… Use that clever little head of yours… While you're with Draco, you can be useful… Explore your Dark Side, Hermione… Help me rule… And maybe Ron can live…"

"There you are," a voice hissed in her ear.

She turned. Draco was gripping on to her shoulder and he looked mad. Angry. Hermione, again, was surprised when she felt her fear. It was strange, feeling scared of Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter. They were only her age and she had got better grades than they had at school.

But what she was feeling, was definitely the ancient feeling of fear.

"We'll talk about this later," he said shortly. "Now come on."

They joined a new party of people where they were discussing the New Hogwarts.

Hermione felt a deep pull down in her stomach. The new Hogwarts? What had been wrong with the Old Hogwarts? Hadn't Harry and Draco enjoyed their time there as much as she had?

She felt physically sick at the enjoyment in each of their faces when they talked of the injuries, bestowed on the defiant at Hogwarts. McGonagall, Hermione's all time idol, had suffered.

Hermione felt guilty. Here she was, at a ball with one Dark lord and now unofficially working for the other one.

She was minding Draco's mother and, when Harry had been above her, she had wanted to kiss him…

And that was the root of Hermione's guilt, really. Because when he had made that deal with her, she had been staring at his mouth, wondering why it seemed so different then before. She had been staring at it and realised that her body was reacting to his. And when she had nodded to his deal, his lips had advanced upon hers and he sealed the deal with a kiss.

And Hermione hadn't pushed him away.

He had ended it, smiled at her and had walked away calmly, leaving Hermione to hurry out after him into the Ball room, with her heart shattering inside of her, and her skin crawling.

And now here she was, trying to put on a face of indifferent, as they all side glanced at her occasionally to see her reaction to their tales. She still didn't feel normal. Something inside of her was twisting, breaking free and _mutating_ her.

"Hermione," Draco was close to her suddenly.

She jumped, startled at his close proximity, and he smirked. She had been so lost in her own thoughts.

He offered her a hand, silently.

The music was changing, she realised, into a slow steady beat. A slow dance? For a minute Hermione forgot how to dance! Why was Draco Malfoy asking her to dance anyway?

And why not?

Terribly aware that Harry was staring at her, terribly aware that everyone was staring at her, she accepted his hand with her own and was surprised when Draco used that hand to pull her close to his chest.

It was the first time she realised how tall he was. Since when had he got so tall? She felt small and fairy-like in his arms. She felt so light-headed. None of her thoughts made too much sense at that moment.

"So… what were you talking to Harry about in that room then?" he asked in a casual tone.

Oh.

Hermione was struck dumb. What could she say?

"H-h-he." Oh, Granger get a grip, she thought angrily. Calming down, she said, "Draco, we've been friends for a very long time. We have much to discuss."

"For some reason," he said in a slightly darker tone, "I doubt you were discussing Quidditch."

"Well, no," she answered in what she hoped was a reasonable tone, "but why are you so curious anyway?"

"Because you picked _me,_" he suddenly said in a tone she would not have expected. "Not him. I hope you still remember that."

"How could I forget?" she snapped.

"Listen up, _Granger_. I've been very nice to you so far, don't you think? Let you have excess to one of the Malfoy Libraries, let you roam around most of the Malfoy Manor freely. Don't push me. Remember, we are not friends. I could be much much worse."

In truth, Hermione had expected him to be much worse. But, in fact, he hadn't been too bad after all. Not friendly, but he hadn't made her clean out the 27 toilets in the Malfoy Manor or anything like that. And she didn't have a wand, and he did. If he had wanted to, he could have made her. Hermione didn't fancy being a toilet cleaner.

"You're right," she said. It was as much of an apology as she was going to offer.

"Oh Hermione, cheer up," he said in a much lighter tone. "Can't you just try to have a good time?"

She was feeling a bit grouchy. "No."

He looked around briefly and then his face lightened and he pulled her closer again so he could talk into her ear without their audience hearing. "I know what'll cheer you up," he said softly. "Look over my right shoulder. Gently now, don't be too obvious." She moved to re-position herself, curious despite herself.

"Now, look at Potter's face. Think of his betrayal, think of him choking you, think of everything that makes you mad about him, and now look at his face," he whispered.

She looked at Harry's face and saw what Draco meant. He was so obviously jealous that it was hilarious. His nostrils were flaring and his eyes were narrowed. His hand was shaking.

Knowing that she had made him feel like that gave Hermione an odd sense of satisfaction.

She turned back to Draco, and something about his 'smirking-at-Harry' face made her laugh out loud.

Draco looked quite taken aback by her sudden mood change but seemed pleased by it. He chucked shortly along with her and pulled her close to him once more.

Hermione didn't really mind being close to him. He was warm and it was much better than the utter loneliness she had felt before. She didn't feel like the odd one out now. Girls were eyeing her jealousy and that made her laugh some more.

Draco didn't seem to mind being close to her either.

Suddenly Hermione's mind started to come back to life again. Why exactly had Draco brought her anyway? Why exactly wasn't she scrubbing those toilets? It didn't make much sense, did it?

"This is all just for show, isn't it?" she asked him, trying not to sound too uncertain. "I mean, why are you doing this?"

He was holding her so tenderly…

He didn't answer.

She was very comfortable in his arms, and so close to him…

"Draco?"

"Maybe," he replied.

"But… it must have been funny, right? Seeing your Death Eater's faces, when you brought a Muggle Born to the ball? I mean, your father's…"

"I suppose," he said nonchalantly.

She felt a small prick of alarm.

"Draco?" She was confused when he stroked her hair just once.

No answer.

"Malfoy?" She wanted to get back on to known territory quickly!

It worked.

He quickly moved away, leaving Hermione feeling oddly cold and rejoined their party, leaving her to follow him and once again, not enjoy their conversation and not participate in it.

She wanted to go home. She felt very tired all of a sudden.

Another hour or so passed and then Draco started saying goodbye to people. Hermione followed suit, not very committed in the whole "politeness" thing. She tried to avoid Harry but he wouldn't let her, blocking her way at the exit.

"I think you'll find," Draco said, from close behind her, "that you are in our way, Harry."

"Goodbye Hermione," he said, completely ignoring Draco's presence. He lowered his face down to hers and kissed her on the cheek. While doing so, he pushed something discreetly into her hand.

Hermione could feel Draco's eyes on her. She gave Harry a weak smile and tried hard to not push by him too rudely.

When she was well passed him, she looked over her shoulder to make sure Draco was coming and saw the two boys smirking at each other, Draco's eyes narrowed and Harry's mouth thin.

Then Draco passed him and, laying one hand on Hermione shoulder, apparated them back to the Malfoy manor.

''''''''''''

__

And there you have it folks. It's been a long time since I've updated this! I think the problem is I've become too attached to Sudden Changes, my other story! I'm sorry! Anyway, I don't know about this story! I'll try my best, okay? J

Anyway, thanks for all reviews from before chapters! Again I'm way too lazy to write personal thanks but please not that I appreciate them all very much!

Thanks for reading this far and hopefully, you like dthis chapter, and will give me a nice review!


	10. The Path to Darkness

How dare she…. There she danced, with Draco, and he had to look on… he had to do nothing…. Stand by, and let her laugh in his face.

He was angry, angry because he actually felt something for her… had always felt something for her.

His feelings for Hermione had began somewhere at the end of fifth year. She'd known Voldemort's plan, she'd told him and he'd brushed her off. When it was painfully clear she had been right, however, he'd felt something twist inside him. Something filled with admiration, respect and bitter regret that he hadn't listened to her.

He'd thought about her a lot that summer. What began as admiration for her brains, soon advanced into something more. He'd thought a lot about her ideas, her temper and her many facts that she had. He'd thought a lot about the power she actually had and, if she had the determination to use it, how brilliant she could actually be. He started to dwell on it quite a bit, and her image was welcome in his mind. He started to think about her smile, her laugh, her shouting, her uninteresting but endearing babble about House Elves…

Her letters, frequent and long, had been the only things that had kept him going. For the first year ever, he'd actually always wrote back but could never really find the words to express what he wanted to say. He'd wanted to say how he was sorry he'd dragged her to the Ministry. He was sorry he hadn't listened to her. He was sorry he had shouted at her. He was sorry that she had gotten injured and he knew, he knew, it was all his fault. But he had never said that in any of his letters. He'd known that he was too weak.

A lot of things happened over that summer. Uncle Vernon had bet him and, no matter how hard he'd tried to fight back, Harry couldn't do anything. Maybe this was the start of the darkness' victory inside him. It was definitely a memory imprinted in his mind, him bloody, bruised, and so hurt inside and out, looking up at his uncle from the ground, looking up with eyes full of anger and disgust and pure, pure hate. Eyes that had flashed red for just one brief second…No longer his Mother's eyes, but Voldemort's…

Then he'd ran from the house. It was only three days before Hogwarts. He'd ran for a long time, then power walked around the streets. He had no where to go. He couldn't use magic, because then Dumbledore would find him or he'd be expelled. He couldn't do anything, he had nothing to do. He'd never felt so lonely or angry in his life.

He'd had to go back to the Dursleys' house, of course. He'd stood outside for a long time in the lashing rain, glaring at the house, hating it. But he wasn't strong; he didn't have the power he craved, so he had to return.

It was strange, how much he changed over that summer, perhaps he'd changed the most as he'd stepped over that threshold and into his Uncle's fury. He learned then that he was weak, that he couldn't fight back, that he had to return, and that he just couldn't do it anymore.

Finally he'd been allowed to return to Hogwarts. Finally. He saw Ron first thing at the train station and they both advanced to the station, Harry oddly excited at the prospect of seeing Hermione.

And then he'd seen her. Looking so pretty. Her hair completely different, her skin clear, smiling not scowling, and walking differently, confidently, happily. To him, she seemed like she was glowing. He remembered her being pretty but not to this extreme. It shouldn't have mattered to him, after all he'd been through, but it did, it did very much.

And then the Death Eaters had gotten him… and he hadn't cared. He'd welcomed seeing Voldemort once again. He'd wanted to see that face of the person who took Sirius away from him. He'd welcomed the finality of it all. The only thing that he had regretted was not having told Hermione how he'd felt… he'd hoped, someday, he'd see her face one more time…that had been all he cared about now, goodbye Ron…

* * *

She turned to face Draco, having just returned to the mansion. He was standing still, back to her. She stared at his back, confusion etching inside her. Just what had happened tonight? How had she reacted to both Harry and, in a slightly gentler way, Draco?

Was she absolutely losing her mind?

She was too tired to think about it tonight, anyway. With a small shrug to herself, she stepped away from him and muttered, "Goodnight."

"Goodnight," he replied.

As she walked up the stairs to her prison, she could feel his eyes upon her and only felt safe, once she had turned the corner.

* * *

Blaise Zabini was not in his best mood. His face had broken out and, although he thought he still looked rather well, he was not looking his best.

It's all this bloody stress, he thought, frustrated. What was Draco thinking becoming a Dark lord? And with Potter? What exactly was going on? And why Draco had felt the need to elect him the person in charge of Hogwarts was beyond him?

Blaise was not a boy that endured responsibility! If anything, he avoided it like the plague. It was not as if he was to become Head Boy or prefect, and especially not Headmaster of the bloody place.

Man, Blaise hated Hogwarts. All he wanted was to get out of this place and now he was stuck here until his new, dear Dark Lord decided otherwise.

The only reason Blaise had bothered stick around was to get better at flying. He had been the Keeper in Slytherin's team and not a bad one. All he wanted to do was improve. And yes, classes were bearable. Potions was amusing, if to serve no other purpose then to observe which Gryffindor could pull the biggest red face and entertaining expression.

The place was simply crawling with Gryffindors. Not that Blaise minded. They more amused him, rather then disgusted him. Ad for blood, it mattered not for him, except for having something to gloat over the less fortunate and, of course, to ensure his parent's inheritance.

Gryffindors. Such strange species. They were interesting to observe, they had very strange behavioural patterns, so unlike the cool, calm attitude of Slytherin.

Right now, he was in the kitchen. Gryffindors and the other houses, excluding Slytherin, couldn't run around the castle, of course. They were limited to the kitchen, their own tower and a couple of hallways. Draco and Potter seemingly hadn't decided what to do with Hogwarts, just yet.

Blaise scowled, but otherwise was in an okay mood. The food he was eating was not bad and the looks some of his former classmates were throwing him were quite encouraging.

An orange head among the crowd caught his attention and he saw the youngest Weasley. Not a pretty thing, at all. Lots of orange hair, freckles and very scrawny, no meat on her like that pretty, fit Cho Chang or that toned, tanned Fleur girl.

Just now, she walked towards him. Smiled at him and said, "Hello, Zabini." Passed him. No scowl, no threat of death, no disgust etched on her face. How interesting – Weasley would have to be observed closer. She obviously had some ulterior motive in mind and he wished to be prepared for it, when she attacked.

He might as well watch her anyway. He had nothing better to do. He was so bloody bored! When he saw Draco, he was going to kill him!

* * *

Hermione woke in the morning, to find her makeup and former ball clothes still on. She must have crashed into her bed and not noticed or cared. Her eyes ran over the room and, with a terribly tired sigh, she heaved herself out of the bed.

Her eyes were on the scrap of paper Harry had given her last night. She sighed as she remembered the words, the words that would be imprinted upon her mind for a long time.

It read:

_You've been a bad girl, Hermione, and bad girls have to be punished._

She supposed he was referring to her dance with Draco, she didn't really know. She didn't understand him anymore. She dropped the paper to the ground where it fell, without a sound. For a minute she was completely still, standing in the centre of the room, wondering what did she do now, where did she go from here? She felt so lost and small.

Then she snapped out of it. She sat down in front of the mirror and slowly wiped the makeup from her face, with the facilities provided. She looked into her own eyes and found something there. Looking into her own face, she remembered who she was and she found strength in that.

She was Hermione Granger. She'd been through worse than this and she would cope. She had to, she had no other choice.

Ignoring the two tears that had rolled down her face, she went to her wardrobe to pick out a new outfit to wear, a new outfit for a new day.

* * *

Draco Malfoy was pacing in his study. He should have been more preoccupied by his new position as Dark lord, but instead, he was analysing Hermione Granger and her relationship with him and with Harry Potter.

They had gotten close. There was something between them. And he would not leave it happen. Because he didn't like the way it made him feel. Something inside him had dulled and he hadn't liked the fluttering.

Potter – Harry, Harry, he amended – could have anything he wanted now, but not Hermione.

But Draco Malfoy wasn't quite sure he wanted her, either, though.

* * *

"Love is a funny thing, isn't it, Ron? I mean, I'm only sixteen, I shouldn't really know that much about love. But I know too much about love or, actually, lack of love. The lack of love that I've had my whole life. It's not fair, Ron, and I won't, I can't, except it anymore."

He stepped forward out of the shadows.

"Do you understand?"

It seemed important to Harry. It was strange to Ron because it was the first time Harry had ever really spoken to him, ever referred to him as if he was a human being and not just another insignificant shadow in the room. Harry had hurt him, he'd laughed at him, he'd spat in his face, but he'd never spoken him, not until now.

And now Harry was in his face, with green eyes beseeching Ron's, glinting with barely suppressed emotion, emotion that had always been there but now quite so uncontrolled.

"You don't understand. I get that. I mean, you've had the Weasleys, haven't you? Your family. The two protective older brothers, the one odd ball, the two comedians, and the darling, little sister, and of course, the doting mother and gentle, bemused father. You've never known, what it has been like, to be so… unwanted. And not just by the Dursleys, Ron, but of my whole Muggle life. They bet me up, they all hated me. I was so unwanted, all my life, and I was a kid. I tried to press it all down but it bloody well bugged me. I could never understand why they didn't like me."

"I understand, Harry," Ron said and he looked away from his old friend's burning eyes. "But this… this darkness. I don't understand that."

"I'm trying to explain. You see, Ron, it all started with the Dursleys. Because that was where it all started. This hate inside of me. In first and second year it was okay, Ron, because I thought things would get better. And then I found Sirius and it did. I wouldn't be stuck with the Dursleys as my only family forever. But Dumbledore kept sending me back there, didn't he? He never realised just how much Uncle Vernon actually did to me, did he, or if he did, he must have just pretended that it didn't happen. Dumbledore played us all, Ron, like we were all little puppets, for his master plan."

"What are you talking about, Harry?"

"Dumbledore told me about a prophecy, Ron, one that said that either Voldemort or I had to die in order to live. But… there was no prophecy, Ron. It was all a trick… He saw me after Sirius' death, he saw that burning hate and love inside me, saw that they were battling, saw that I was, in fact, becoming… Tom Riddle."

* * *

Not really too much going on in this chapter but a couple of key points. I Know, I KNOW! It's been ages since I last updated! I'm sorry, I really do try! I'll try harder. Be expecting an ending soonish, I'd like to finish up before this story becomes way too long.

Thanks to all reviewers and I hope some people still remember what's going on in this. I sure as hell didn't! :- Check out my other stories! Varieties of Life (I have to change that, it's supposed to be Vulgarities of Life) and Satisfaction. VOL is sort of like this one, a little, exploring the dark side of Harry and Satisfaction is about Hermione growing up, in an awkward urge-filled way.

Thanks to all and I hope you all had a good holiday and doesn't going back to school suck, big time?


	11. The Realisation

"Why is she still here, so?" his mother challenged. He glared at her, nostrils slightly flaring. She had puffed herself right up and her face was very red. Her hair stuck out in a very unMalfoy-ish way and she looked taller than normal. But he was not afraid of her. He was not afraid of anybody anymore. The only person Draco had feared, his father, was now serving him.

Why was Hermione still there? Ever since the ball she had refused to see him. Behind the wooden door, she was silent. She replied to Narcissa in curt, short terms. He was bothered by her silence. It left him with a huge lack of satisfaction at every one of his visits, and his mother told her Hermione hadn't eaten anything proper since. Draco couldn't help but wonder what had happened that had been so bad at the ball, as he'd rather had a good time.

Maybe it was because of something Potter had said. She had been left in that room with him for quite some time. Maybe he had told her he had killed Ron or something petty like that. Currently Ron did not know of Weasley's welfare, and he had limited, extremely limited, interest in the subject. It was Potter's business, and Draco knew better than to pry.

But Hermione's silence was bothering him more than it should have. She was taking all the fun out of being a Dark lord. As a standard rule, both him and Potter were killing only those necessary. It was always a stupid thing to kill somebody if not essential. Deaths brought mess and drains of power and unwanted vengeance from emotional relatives. It wasn't pretty. Maybe people did not realise how much effort an Unforgivable took to cast and Draco had found himself needing to recharge on a weekly basis. He knew Potter was having the same problem, he could see the paleness taking over Potter and the tiredness echoed in his eyes.

Why else might Hermione be so stubborn not to see Draco? Maybe she'd been shocked when she'd looked up into his face and seen something more than hatred and disgust in his face? Maybe that had changed things some how. Draco certainly felt different. He was _thinking _about Granger too much. It wasn't normal.

His mother must have noticed something in her son's countenance also, because, when he'd returned home that day, she'd been waiting for him.

"Draco," she had said, "you have to do something! Poor Hermione's still up in her room and she will barely say a word to me! She won't eat anything! What's happened to her? You're going to have to do something!"

"Why should I?" he had sneered. "What care I for Granger and her mood swings?"

"It's not a mood swing! It's been three weeks!"

"I have more important things to deal with, Mother."

"Hermione is your responsibility!"

"I don't care!" He had found his temper rising suddenly, exploding up his chest. "I don't care about her!"

"You do," she had said suddenly, as if by a surprise realisation. "You do, don't you? Why else are you getting so frustrated?"

"I don't care," he had spat sullenly. "Stop it."

"Why is she still here, so?" This is the challenge his mother was presenting him with then, and he found the words to be like a bucket of ice water dumped unceremonially on his head. Why was Hermione still here? She was proving herself to be both useless and disrespectful. She was purposefully being difficult, and all because of a silly ball back in the past. Why was he keeping Hermione in his care, rather than throwing her out into the streets to leave Harry find her, or why wasn't he killing her as he stood there? Why was he getting so angry and why was he focusing on her rather than his new career as one of the most powerful and feared wizards known to the Wizarding World?

"That's it!" he growled, his frustration reaching its peak. "I'm going to stop all this nonsense once and for all!"

He stormed up the stairs to where her offending door resided and yelled through the wood, "Granger, let me in!"

No response.

"Granger, I am not going to ask again. Let me in _now_!"

Silence sang in the air.

He promptly blew the door off its hinges and it crashed to the ground with a resounding bang that somehow matched his mood. He stepped forward loudly to where she was sitting with her back to him and turned her harshly by the shoulders.

Suddenly all that was in his vision was a pale, tear streaked face and two dark eyes full of sadness.

It stopped him in his tracks and he felt every muscle in his body freeze up at the sight of her.

He found his head full of stupid thoughts about how, even crying, she was still beautiful. He would have laughed out loud, except for the fact that it wasn't very funny at all.

"Merlin, Granger, what's the matter?" he found himself asking.

"Just leave me alone, Malfoy," she said and closed her eyes, turning her back to him.

He wasn't sure what to do. But he wasn't just going to leave it go. "Tell me what's the matter with you, Hermione." He raised his wand, to further his threat.

He imagined he could hear the snap that took place inside her. She was suddenly standing and throwing the stool out of her way. She faced him and her eyes were accusing and flashing. "You want to know what's the matter, Malfoy! How about for the fact that Dumbledore is dead, I don't know where my best friend is and I know the other one is exactly what he's tried to defeat his whole life! How about for the fact that I'm stuck in another Dark Lord's house and he has a different personality every time I see him! I mean, what was that at the Ball, Draco? When I looked at you-"

She let out a quiet sob and didn't seem to want to continue.

"When you looked at me…?" He prompted. His wand was still raised.

"When I looked at you, I saw you as a person, okay? A Human! And I liked it! And it confused me…" She looked down at the floor and when she looked up her expression was full of shame.

His hand was shaking, he realised. She saw him as a person? A human? Nobody had seen him like that in so long, not even when he hadn't been a Dark Lord… something inside him was twisting, melting…

"What are you doing to me!" he yelled at her, but she was crying again and he wasn't sure she heard him or maybe she just didn't have an answer. He couldn't help but, as he saw her crying, weak and completely broken, what he was doing to her too. What they were doing to each other…

He had told his mother he hadn't cared. But he did care. It just didn't make sense.

* * *

Sybil looked up from her globe to the worried faces of her fellow colleges. It showed their complete desperation that they would consult in her, somebody they had all felt was a complete and utter faker.

"There's hope yet. A certain minor light may still lean incandescent," she told them, and, for one moment, the worry eased from their faces.

* * *

Draco couldn't believe it. He left her room and sat on the stairs in the main hall for a long time. His mother stood by him, a comforting but silent presence.

She could never be silent for long, though.

"Are you happy, Draco?"

The answer was no. He'd received his dream already. He had all the power at his disposal and his father had finally given him the due respect. And yet there was no happiness, only a tint of satisfaction among the vast emptiness.

He looked up at her, and knew he didn't have to tell her this. She was his mother, and she already knew.

"Could she make you happy?" Narcissa asked him now.

He had never felt this way about a girl before. He should have seen the signs, really. But he hadn't. He'd pushed them down and now a volcano of emotion and realisation had occurred, burning away whatever defence his father had forced him to build up.

"But…I've done so much…she would never…I mean…" Draco was embarrassed to find himself unable to articulate a simple sentence.

"You have to try," Narcissa told him. "What's the one thing that could make her see you as a better person?"

Draco thought. And then he realised what he would do.

Weasley.

He would go to Harry's tonight and steal Weasley back for Hermione. Even if Harry caught him. Even if he had to kill Harry.

Draco had to try.

* * *

_So there you go. Yes, I'm going to finish it. I realise whatever readers I had for this story are probably so old their teeth are falling out, but I've decided I AM going to finish this story, even if the ending is rushed. It has to be done, because it's not fair otherwise. I will write the next chapter tomorrow. It's just too late now (3.00 am) so I must go to bed!_

"There's hope yet. A certain minor light may still lean incandescent," she told them, and, for one moment, the worry eased from their faces. _Minor light quote taken from Sylvia Plath's Black Rook in Rainy Weather._


	12. The Realisation II

Hermione knew something was different. Draco had come to her room and she'd let her emotions run free at him. His face had changed, the expression no longer cold. She couldn't quite bring herself to think of it; what did it mean? Why did she even care? They were supposed to be enemies. They _were_ enemies. None of this made sense. She collapsed on to her bed and tossed. She'd never felt so prickly and uncomfortable and hot and flustered in her life. She was completely restless and she didn't know what she was going to do!

Things had been so easy when she'd just hated him.

One single moment can change everything. One little second. She'd looked into his eyes, and seen more than coolness in them. She'd looked inside herself, and seen more than hatred there. It may have taken her a little longer than sensible to realise it but…but _what!_ Having feelings for him was no different than having feelings for Voldemort! How could she be so foolish?

But Hermione had always been a very emotional person. She couldn't just push down her emotions. She was so bloody confused!

All she'd done for the last two weeks was wept and realise how pathetic and powerless she had become. She had to stay away from Draco and from his mother, but the isolation had driven her deeper into despair, and she honestly felt she had nothing left to live for.

Except that was silly of her. She had plenty left to live for. She had her parents, if Harry or Draco hadn't already done away with them. She had Ron, wherever he was. She had little Ginny, probably somewhere, scared and worried. She had the rest of the Hogwarts population, those who still believed in the Golden Trio and Dumbledore, those who still believed that there was hope.

But something was different today. Hermione had thought all this before, but there was finality in her thoughts. She had a feeling something drastic was going to happen. It worried her, but she was ready. She'd spent too much time brooding; she was ready to fight this war at last. She just hoped she'd be alive when it ended. And she hoped it would end soon.

* * *

Draco didn't stop to question what he was about to do. He didn't stop and ask himself was he crazy. He didn't stop to think about the death that Harry would force upon him if he were found. Draco didn't stop to think about Hermione in his home. All he thought of was, logically, how he was to get Weasley out with minimal force.

His mind was focused, his emotions empty, and his heart cold.

He continued walking until he reached Tom Riddle's Muggle home.

It was strange, Harry's choice to live here. Draco had always presumed he would live in Hogwarts once they'd taken it over. Harry had always felt it to be his only home. Draco couldn't quite understand why Harry felt Voldemort old house suitable or liveable. It was dark and cold and unfriendly, and under bad repair.

The place was somewhere Draco didn't feel he should enter, if only for the fact that his black cloak would get dirty.

He opened up the creaking gate, without hesitation, and preceded up the drive-way. The garden was dark and quiet, and Draco felt as if invisible eyes were watching him. Perhaps there were. Draco wouldn't have been surprised. Why was there such a lack of security?

Was Harry that sure of his power that he let anybody into his home?

The thought was disturbing but Draco wasn't too fazed. Draco hadn't shown Harry all the powers he possessed yet either.

If they were to duel, it would be an interesting fight indeed.

He opened the door and waited but silence was all that greeted him. He shrugged to himself but he was unnerved. The house was darker than the garden had been, and just as empty. His footsteps seemed impossibly loud and Draco realised he hadn't a clue where Weasley would be held.

Dungeons?

He thought Weasley would probably be underground somewhere. He walked slowly to the door on his right, trusting his instinct, and sure enough, the door led him to a stone stairwell, leading down into a cloud of black. He briefly wondered whether to light his wand or not, but decided against it. He could use the darkness to his advantage just as much as Harry could. Draco had lived in the darkness much longer than Harry, and he felt he understood it better.

At the end of the stairs, there was a light. One feeble light on the wall, but it showed Draco another stone door. He walked through it and was met with two entryways, both identical. Draco picked the one on his left and continued on. It was inhumanly cold, and even he shivered, despite himself. He still felt like he was being watched. Harry?

At the end of the tunnel, there was another weak light. Under the light, there was a dull sheen of red. Weasley…

Draco didn't hurry himself. He kneeled once he reached Weasley and took him by the chin, pulling his face upwards. Draco felt a jolt through him.

Harry had done this to his best friend…

Weasley's face was a mask of blood. It was difficult to distinguish between Weasley's features. His whole body was small and impossibly thin. Harry hadn't feed him then? How long had Weasley been down there? His whole body was covered with cuts and burns and dried blood. But what had given Draco the jolt was the aura of power surrounded Weasley. Dark Power. Not coming from Weasley, but surrounding Harry. What had Harry actually done to the boy? What dimension of pain was he in? Draco had never seen anything like it, and that was saying something as he had lived with Lucius Malfoy for sixteen years.

There was no way Weasley could still be alive.

Yet one of his eyes cracked open and a voice came from somewhere on his face, "Malfoy?" His voice was croaky and full of anguish.

This was power. Not magical power like Draco had always thought. This was strength. Despite all of Weasley's pain, he had still hung on. He was still alive. Despite being betrayed and tortured by his best friend, he hadn't given up hope. Draco couldn't deny Weasley the respect he was due, at that moment.

"Yeah, it's me," Draco said, and there was no malice in his voice. "I'm going to get you out of here."

Perhaps it was because Weasley had suffered so much now that he no longer cared what Draco could do to him, but he detected no hatred or surprise in Weasley's one open eye.

"The chains are magically bound," was all Weasley said.

Draco didn't even raise his wand. "Not anymore," he said as they clicked off his tiny wrists without Draco lifting a finger.

Draco couldn't be sure but he could almost swear Weasley had just grinned.

Clap…Clap…Clap… 

Just one steady sarcastic beat. It could only be one person, of course.

Harry Potter.

Draco turned. It was time to end this, once and for all.

* * *

_A chapter, basically just to keep things moving! The rest should be up soon! This should have been up yesterday, but my password kept getting changed so I couldn't log on!_

_Thanks for all those who reviewed. They make me smile, so please keep it up! I'm so glad I've decided to finish this! _

_Love always,  
Amy  
xxx_


	13. The Reunion

He was only a boy.

Despite everything, he was only a boy. A teenager. He wasn't as powerful or big he thought he was. He wasn't Voldemort; he hadn't learnt or lived enough to be Voldemort. Voldemort had lived a full of regrets and rejections and beatings and bullying. Voldemort lived a life where he'd seen his father with his new Muggle son, only a year younger than himself, also named Tom. The two brothers could nearly have been twins – until Voldemort, himself, had killed him and his father, barely seventeen and crying all the way through it. Voldemort had found his mother's body hanging from the ceiling, when he'd been only ten years old. He'd been put in that orphanage because his mother had been so unsteady, and she'd finally topped herself, just as he'd come back into her life.

Draco was different than Voldemort.

Draco was only a boy.

He was the same age as Weasley here. He was in the same year, and he had been in the same school. They'd sat in the same classroom and lived in the same castle for many years. How were they really different? Apart from different houses, different friends, and a different upraising, they were still only two young men.

Draco had tried too long now. He didn't understand life any better than he had before becoming a Dark Lord. He didn't understand anything, nothing was clearer. He could make his father kneel at his feet, he could even kill him, but did it really change anything? Did it really take away those years of cold distain and unrelenting disapproval and dissatisfaction? Did it really make his father like him any better? Did it really make Draco care anymore?

Draco realised he should have listened to his mother more. He had one parent that loved him; he hadn't needed another.

Being a Dark Lord wasn't even fun. He didn't need any amazing talent in magic. The Death Eaters were merely sheep, flocking from one leader to another. They contained no loyalty, only fear. The fear they'd been given from Voldemort had transferred with minimal effort on Draco or Harry's part, and suddenly they had their followers. Being a Dark Lord was easy. The followers didn't have to be clever; they just needed to be there, in numbers. All they were to Draco now, was self-functioning wands.

Killing people was something Draco was able to do, but something he disliked. Killing was messy and unnecessary, and he avoided it as much as possible. Blood only reminded him of his own, pure and useless.

He was only a boy.

But she was only a girl.

Hermione Granger. There was nothing special about her. Nothing! She was just…Hermione Granger! She didn't have any amazing beauty or any quick wit or any special talents. She didn't even possess pure blood. She didn't have any great connections or any large inheritance he could gain from. Her parents were Muggles – dentists – and the only thing she had shown compassion for involving him was his library.

So why?

Why, if she was but a girl, was he suddenly risking everything for her?

An image flashed in his mind. Her, at the ball. It had all changed there. She'd been so warm in his arms, and her skin had been smooth. The light reflecting in her pupils had mesmerised him, and her voice, not her words, had told him strange things about himself.

Why was she suddenly the only thing he cared about? Suddenly everything just seemed silly and fruitless. What was the point in being a Dark Lord, if there was no enjoyment in it? Why was he bothering to impress his father, if his father had proved unable to be impressed? Maybe, after all his efforts, Draco hadn't really been trying to impress his father after all. Maybe he'd been trying to impress himself. Maybe this was his one change to prove to himself – and Hermione – that there was more to Draco Malfoy.

Harry Potter was just a boy too. The Boy Who Lived.

"Hello, Draco."

"Harry."

"I must ask," Harry asked calmly, "what you doing with my friend, Ron. See, Draco, I believe we had a deal and you, you're not going by the rules." Green eyes flashed. "You can't change the rules, Draco."

"Why not, Harry? Let's make it more exciting, shall we?"

"There's only one way our deal with change, Draco. An exchange. Hermione for Ron. Just like before."

Hermione for Ron…

The thought was laughable to Draco.

"No."

"Why not? Surely you're tired of Hermione by now?" Harry was talking casually but he was watching Draco very, very carefully.

"I'm not."

"Not yet?"

"Not ever," Draco replied. Now, where had that come from?

Harry said nothing, but watched him silently, like a cat ready to attack.

Draco stayed in the silence for a minute, than continued to lift Weasley to his feet.

"I must ask you to stop." Harry's wand was raised and pointing at Draco's forehead. "What do you want with Ron anyway? If you wish to play with him, you can do so right here. I would like to watch."

"No, I want to take him back with me."

"Why?" Harry's eyes narrowed slightly. "The deal is this: Hermione from Ron. I have an idea. How about Ron _and_ Ginny for Hermione? Ginny, come here." Out of the shadows lurched a small creature. Draco thought it was a house elf for a moment, than, with the sight of long vivid red hair and wide terrified brown eyes, he gathered himself and knew it to be the youngest Weasley. She was dressed, cruelly, in a pillowcase that covered barely anything, as a House Elf. She was chained by her ankle to Harry's wrist, and had been hiding in the darkness.

"No."

"Draco, I thought we had this clear. You must have had your use of Hermione now. I tire of waiting. I need her now. I…I always wanted Hermione from the start, but I thought I'd let you have your way and have patience. Not anymore. The deal is this: Hermione for Ron, Ginny and your own life, for I do have you on wand point, if you've failed to notice."

"No." Draco's answer was quite, low and definite.

"Why not?" Harry asked.

Draco was silent. He did not, after all, really know.

Realisation slowly spread on Harry's face, flooding lethally. The shock seemed to melt and Harry began to laugh, a deep laugh that came from the hollow of his throat. Draco just stared, uncertain as to how to act.

"Oh Merlin no!" Harry said through his laughter. "Oh please no! You love her. You love Hermione!"

"Don't you?" was Draco's only reply.

Ron's eyes were wide, but he seemed unable to actually say anything to express whatever he was thinking.

"You…you really love her," Harry said now, and his mood changed suddenly, his laugher going as soon as it had come.

"I don't know," Draco said truthfully. "She…she makes me happy." This was a funny thing to say, because all she had ever brought him was misery, she had truly messed everything up for him. He hated feeling this way about her, and still partly hated her, herself. Maybe why he thought she made him happy or could do so, was because she was breaking down the life for him that he hadn't the bravery to break down himself. Maybe that's why he loved her; because he shouldn't. Because it was so impossible…

"It's actually quite sad," Harry said. He watched Draco with a gleeful look in his eye, and he looked as if he was about to deliver the final blow. "You loving her. You haven't got a clue, have you?"

"What are you talking about?" Draco snapped coldly.

"I can't believe she could be so merciless…but then, I've always thought she had it in her, ever since her Rita Skitter days. She's quite something, isn't she? Just when you think you have Hermione Granger figured out, she surprises you…"

"Potter, what are you going on about?"

"She's been leading you on, Draco. She must have known…it's so obvious, really, I can't believe I didn't see it…. she's been leading you on, making you fall for her the same way I have. That _bitch!"_

"You're crazy," Ron breathed. "Both of you are crazy."

Draco felt inclined to agree with the red head.

"You don't understand, Draco. She's been using you. Ever since the ball…she's been a spy. A spy for me. She betrayed you…just when you were getting so _close_." Harry's voice was full of scorn and mocking.

Draco didn't want to believe it. But how could he ignore it? They had disappeared together for such a long time, and what proof had Draco that she wouldn't do something like that? How could he not believe that she didn't have any feelings for Harry, after all those years of friendship and all Draco's years of teasing?

Draco felt a flourish of rage soar through him. This must have shown, as immediately after, Ron, who was still in Draco's grip, began pulling away from him. For a Weasley unable to move a few minutes ago, Ron was making such rather good efforts now. Draco, however, did not let go off him, tightening his grip.

* * *

Hermione had just been falling to sleep, when there was the large sound of someone apparating. She pulled herself up, once she saw the two people.

"RON!" Disbelief racketed through her.

"Hermi-"

"C'mon," Draco said and, with a harsh pull, dragged her from the bed and apparated them again.

Once the dizziness subsided, Hermione found herself at the feet of a very, very amused looking Harry Potter and, behind her, a murderous looking Malfoy. On the ground beside her was a crumbled, messy Ron and, beside Harry, a starved looking Ginny.

It was going to be a very long night.

* * *

_This last chapter for the story just doesn't want to be written. Sorry it's getting so broken up; I just can't get the whole thing all out. I'm so tired lately! What do you think?_

_Thanks to: _

_Seghen, Phantom-Chick, AnonymousHatred, Mystical4, Crazy-White-Rabbit, MagicalFlame and HermioneTheSlytherinPrincess._


	14. Demented

"_Do you ever wonder how this all started?" Blaise asked her, eyes no longer cold as they'd once been but alive with warmth and admiration._

"_Yeah, I even remember." She grinned up at him. "I said hello to you. That was it. No hatred, no anything, I just said hello."_

"_Like I was a person. Yes, now I remember. You had me interested, and that was before I even knew you."_

"_I presume you're still interested though?"_

"_I suppose, Ginevra," he said, "since I'm after falling in love with you."_

_They sat together in the old Gryffindor common Room, the one Common Room nobody was permitted to enter anymore._

"_I can never get used to that," she told him._

"_What, being called Ginevra?"_

"_Well, that too," she replied. "But that's not what I meant. I mean, hearing a Slytherin say the word love."_

"_Well, you'd better get used to it, shouldn't you?" he said and, smiling, kissed her._

"_This has all happened so fast," she muttered after the short kiss._

"_I got something for you, Gin." He moved to take something out of his pocket._

"_What is it?" She looked expectantly at his empty hand._

"_Open up your hand," he said. She did and he nicked her, a small blot of blood and pain later and immediately a knife came into view. "It comes visible when it touches blood," he explained._

"_How romantic," she said sarcastically as they watched it fade back to invisibility._

"_It's dangerous times. I…this could protect you." Blaise's face was oddly serious, looking like the observant, quiet boy he'd once been before she'd awoken him and brought out what he truly was and what he'd always wanted to be. " Always keep this on your person, Gin. I know we haven't know each other that long, but I want to know everything and…and if anything happened to you…"_

"_Nothing's going to happen," she told him, tucking the knife down the front of her robe and tilting her head up to kiss and reassure him. "But…er…next time, jewellery or something pretty would be more appreciated…"_

_He laughed, and that was the exact second Harry appeared and dragged her away, knocking Blaise out and making what was left of Ginny's life – the life and happiness she'd only just began to rebuild with Blaise – crumble to pieces, right in front of her eyes. _

* * *

Ginny could barely stand and the only comparison Hermione could find to her old friend was that of a famine victim. Her hair was no longer full of vitality, only dull red, red like that of rust, like that of old blood. Dry and dead, significant and completely unlike before. But Ginny's eyes were what were most dead. As they looked upon Hermione, there was no surprise or happiness or anything, instead all there was was a dull look of fear, there by custom at this stage. 

She was dressed as a House Elf. House Elves…the one thing Hermione had ever tried to free. She hadn't succeeded. But she knew now, without one doubt in her mind, that she would free poor, innocent Ginny. She had to.

"Ginny…!" Hermione cried.

Ginny flinched from her name and scuttled to the shadows, as far as she could without disturbing Harry's chain. Hermione didn't get up to follow her. If Ginny felt safer in the darkness, Hermione wouldn't take that away from her. Not until she had something better to offer.

Ron's face was so bloody. He'd been butchered and beaten to a pulp but, in typical Ron -style, he was still standing and from what Hermione could see of his eyes through the mess, his eyes were set fully on her with what looked like worry and compassion. Look at all that Harry had done to him, and all Ron could think of was others. Typical Ron.

Look at all the pain Harry had caused. There was no possibility of Harry being forgiven. He would never be the Harry of before. He would never be a friend again. She looked up at him now with pure hatred running through her veins and pushed herself up from the ground, lifting herself to look at him on an equal level. It would be lying to say she wasn't afraid. She was. But she could fight her fear, it would not overcome her, and would possibly drive her on to do whatever she had to save her last two best friends.

"Is it true?" he asked in a low, terrible voice.

Hermione closed her eyes in mental agony then turned to face him. Draco Malfoy, who was currently glaring at her with eyes like molten silver, the same colour of Saturn's rings, the same colour as a reflective lake with moonlight glinting off of it. Beautiful, but something you could drown in and die. She felt like she was drowning now. She certainly couldn't breathe properly.

"Yes," she admitted. She knew what he was talking of, of course. That was the problem with making a deal with the devil – he would nearly always turn his back on you and he would always have the upper hand. _Enjoy it while it lasts Harry, _she thought viciously to Harry's sneering, smirking, smug face.

"Why?" Draco asked.

She stared at him, wondering if he was serious. Finding that he wasn't planning on saying more, the tension in her chest eased as she yelled, "Why do you think, Draco? You're a Malfoy! You're a Dark Lord! I never did anything but of course I accepted Harry's offer to become his spy! Of course I did! Just on the off chance that it might keep Ron alive!"

"I thought you had feelings for me." His voice was still dark and low and his eyes still pouring into hers. She couldn't look away.

"I do!" she exclaimed and was instantly surprised that she had admitted the truth to herself so easily. "I do, I guess. But I have no loyalty towards you, Draco, and I don't know what you expected!"

He kept silent but continued to stare at her unnervingly.

"What did you expect?" she asked him in a softer type of voice. She was looking at nobody but him. She wasn't aware of their presence at that moment, caught in his eyes.

"He loves you, you know," Harry interrupted and his voice was full of mocking spite. "And from what I caught, he has for some time now. He was coming here to save Weasley. Just for you." Harry laughed loudly and terribly.

Her eyes widened into his. Draco's face was completely emotionless and he stood as if he was made of stone. Maybe he was made of stone, it really would explain so much.

"Is it true?" she whispered, shocked.

Silence, and then the statue of Draco Malfoy nodded.

The world snapped back into focus and suddenly there was a whole range of colours around her, not just silver. She suddenly remembered who Ginny Weasley, Ron Weasley and Harry Potter were, and at the same time her and Draco's own identities. She remembered that there were more important things at stake, like the lives of her best friends. This was a life and death situation.

Hermione Granger had always been quite a clever and logical girl, but the next thing she was to do would be something she could never be proud of, no matter how necessary. She had to use Draco's love against him.

"Prove it," she said in a voice unlike her own. "Let me go."

He didn't move. And then, just one more nod. And his eyes were no longer the eyes of stone; instead there was a tragic sadness in them. She knew he didn't want her to go.

"Give me my wand," she commanded in the same business-like voice.

Harry didn't stop Draco from conjuring her wand. She couldn't imagine why. Perhaps he was just too surprised, or maybe he just wanted to see what was about to happen.

"And Ginny and Ron's." His eyes were still set on hers.

"Let me," Harry said with exaggerated manners and conjured them. "Here, Ginny," he said with mock kindness. "Here's your wand. Now come out of the shadows like a good girl. You don't want to miss the show." Harry also threw Ron's wand to him without a word. "Now what, Hermione?" Harry beckoned. "Do you really think you can do _anything_ against me? These two-," he gestured at Ron and Ginny, "are much to weak to perform enough dark magic to have any sort of effect on me. And you – well, we all know you were always better at reading than doing."

It was true. Ron and Ginny couldn't perform any dark magic and Hermione, herself, had never been able to perform many of the Dark Arts. She could perform in school but both she and Harry knew that, even before he was to become a Dark Lord, he would always have been triumphant in a duel with her.

She wasn't looking at Harry though. Draco was the only person she had eyes for.

The plan had formulated so quickly. She didn't even know if it would work. But if it did…

"Dementia!" she cried aloud. Harry and Draco hadn't brought the Dementors to their side, no doubt because Harry's unfounded fear in them still remained. Although, because the Ministry was still in tatters, there was extremely little Dementors could do (especially since Ministry officials didn't know they were Harry's greatest fear), they still all hung around in dark areas, and the world was that bit more mistier and miserable. The spell she'd just cried was the spell to call a pack forward, it was a highly classified spell she'd had the fortune to come across in one of the Malfoys' more guarded books. Harry, obviously, had no idea what spell she had just cast and was looking around anxiously. Draco might have known but his expression did not changed and he kept looking at her with those beseeching eyes.

She could only pray now. There was nothing really left for her to do but say her prayers.

The spell itself actually took most of her strength. She remained focused and her heart lifted when she saw the mist gathering through the window. She knew Harry wouldn't have noticed anything, but Draco must know…so why wasn't he doing anything?

The rest happened rather quickly. Mist developed to large hooded black shadows and Hermione reacted quickly. The problem with using dark magic was that it made it nearly impossible to cast white magic and vice versa. She couldn't quite manage the darkness, but the white magic was quite familiar to her now.

Ginny and Ron were too weak to cast any sort of dark magic to damage even a fly on the wall, but they were well able to send a Patronus to protect themselves. After all, they'd had a year of practice at it, ever since Harry himself had taught them how to do it in the DA meetings.

She escaped from Draco's gaze to join Ginny and Ron's side, to join their Patronus's together. Draco stood on his own on the ground, and Harry stood near but not in the silver light of the Patronus.

Both Dark Lords tried to conjure their old Patronuses. Both failed.

"You have to have happy memories," Hermione whispered now, voice shaking not smug. "You have to be able to use white magic, and you have to be able to remember a time when you were happy."

Draco didn't have any happy memories. And Prongs had left Harry forever.

Two Dementors advanced on the two boys. Harry's horror was highlighted in the light. At the same time, Ginny's Patronus began to flicker.

"Hermione," Ron's weak grip on her arm. She looked down at Ron's face, at his honest blue eyes. "Hermione…you have to save Harry."

She didn't want to. In one stricken second, she knew she only had one second to decide. She could decide to save one boy – Harry Potter or Draco Malfoy? Not too long ago, she'd been forced to make the same decision and she had chosen Draco. She knew now, deep in her heart, who she had to save now. Who it only made sense to save, and who Ron would never forgive her if she didn't.

She pushed Harry into the silver light, just as Ginny's Patronus flickered again. In the flicker, she saw the moment Draco Malfoy was kissed by the Dementors. There was nothing she could do, no time, and she was holding all three of the Patronuses together. There was nothing she could do, but she tried…

The Dementors dispersed into mist and withdrew in the time span of a second, having found their victim and all others protected. She ran to Draco but it was too late. Those silver eyes stared vacantly ahead, and he was no more.

Hermione looked up at the sound. Harry Potter had fell to the floor, and he was dead. Ginny Weasley stood above him, with savage eyes, and a dagger dripping with blood in her tiny trembling hand. "I had to, Hermione," she muttered then, eyes still on Harry's definitely dead form. "I've been waiting for so long to do that. I had to. He would have killed us all. You have no idea what he did to me…I-I had to, Hermione. He killed Luna…he killed so many people…he raped me…" And then the knife dropped to the floor and, after a minute, so did Ginny and her gentle sobs filled the air. Ron moved to check Harry, and then to his sister.

But Hermione didn't care about Harry, or Ginny, or Ron, or Luna. She would later, but now all she thought of was Draco Malfoy. Draco Malfoy was gone, Draco Malfoy was dead to the world, and she would never understand anything. She had never really even known him at all…

* * *

_Sorry this chapter took so long to get out!  
_

_Thanks a million to Ptrst who beta read this for me, and for being so helpful and a great writer and reviewer in general. Thanks again – sorry I didn't give you any heads up before just throwing this chapter at you! lol_

_Thanks to Magical Flame, HermioneTheSlytherinPrincess, Vedgirl1202, Lisi, iNsEcUrEGoThGiRl, Mystical4, Seghen, Aurorablu, green pea soup, joy, Ptrst (again), sabs, sugr-n-spice522, Jasmine-Signet and Anigan for your kind reviews!_

_Last, last chapter should be up soon, in less than a week. And then that's it! Yay!_


	15. Free?

There would be rejoicing later for Ginny but she wasn't ready for it yet. Blaise ran up to her, eyes full of worry and anxiety, but she couldn't do more than stare at him. She could hardly believe the torment was over. But would it be over? Would she ever get over it? What Harry had put her through?

She melted into Blaise's arms naturally, and rested there, squeezing her eyes shut against the world. She was so small in his arms and for the first time she felt safe again.

"Ginny…" He was kissing her neck almost feverishly, and there were tears in his dark eyes. "I thought you were dead…I thought _he'd_ killed you…."

Ginny was alive, but only just.

"_What happened?" _he cried.

Ginny stepped away from him, scared and white, and then took the knife from her pocket. It was clearly visible – there was blood on it. She stared at it almost blindly and then gave it to him. She watched him take it and then watched his face drop as the realisation kicked in.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I'm sorry you had to do that, Gin."

She stared at him as he took her in his arms.

"Do you still love me?" she asked in a tiny voice.

There was no hesitation.

"Always."

She relaxed for the first time, her head against her chest. The shame and guilt and fear and exhaustion eased slightly, and all she could pray for now was that Blaise would never have let go of her again.

* * *

The gravestone read simply: _Harry Potter._

Nobody would ever know Harry was buried here, in this Muggle cemetery. It was a private place, small and peaceful. Harry had no links to the village that over looked it, so nobody would guess. Hermione's grandmother was buried a couple of rows up.

Ron stood beside her now, and they both stared at the stone, hoping for answers it would never give them.

"Were you talking to Ginny?" Hermione asked him.

Ron looked up as if he was surprised to see she was there. "Yes," he said in a painful sort of voice. "She's okay. She hasn't stopped shaking though, and I hear her crying in her sleep almost every night. What did he do to her, Hermione? How could he…?" Ron broke off and looked away from her into the bright sky.

"He raped her, Ron," she told him nervously. "And h-he made her watch Luna die."

"Why Ginny though? Why do that to Ginny? I was there in that dungeon, Hermione, and I suffered - but physically, not like that…I mean, it's Ginny!"

"Maybe it's because he knew she loved him." Her voice was gentle.

Ron's voice was not gentle. "Well, that's stupid, because he knew how much we loved him too! Yeah, Ginny fancied Harry, but she wasn't one of his best friends! He knew how much you and I cared for him as well." Ron looked away again, when the emotion started spilling from his eyes. "Didn't he?"

"Maybe he just wanted to hurt the people that he knew loved him," she said, looking back at the name. "And he knew the way to hurt you the most was to hurt the people you loved."

There was silence except for the odd sounds of the outside world echoing around them.

Ron was the first to break it. "I don't understand it. How could things get so messed up?"

"I don't know," she answered truthfully.

"I don't get it. I mean, when I look at that grave, I'm _sad_, Hermione. Even after everything he's done, I feel I need to mourn for him!"

"Look at that grave and think of Harry Potter," she whispered intensely. "I do. I don't think of all that happened. I think of that goofy looking eleven-year-old boy with those brilliant eyes and kind heart, who never had a bad word to say about anyone and who was our best friend. Think of Harry, and be sad…"

"I just wish it were that simple," Ron breathed.

She did too. Because Harry's memory would always be tainted now. The old Harry would never be remembered by the world. That was why Harry's grave was buried out here, after all. So nobody would trash it.

"Life isn't simple," she replied after a moment of contemplation.

More silence followed until Ron broke it again.

"Have you given up yet?"

She didn't really want to answer. "No."

"Why do you even care about him?" he asked now, but there was a lack of fire in his voice.

"You'd never understand."

Ron considered her for a moment. Before, he would have argued and insisted for answers…but now…

"Will you be able to do it?"

"I have help," she told him.

* * *

Severus Snape was not a pleasant man to work with, but his attitude towards her had softened somewhat. She kept watch on him warily, but he didn't sneer even when she made some minor mistakes concerning the Potion.

"Are you alright, Miss Granger?" he asked her, after a moment. "You look tired."

"I'll survive, Professor Snape," she said, smiling grimly. "I haven't been sleeping well, is all."

"Understandable."

There was more silence.

"Professor Snape, why are you-" she began to ask.

"Please, Miss Granger. I appreciate you have a very curious mind and I have indeed been expecting this question, but could we leave it until another day, perhaps? One when both of us are not so exhausted?"

She nodded, but knew he'd probably never tell her why he was helping her to make this potion that would hopefully help her restore Draco's soul.

* * *

The Potion was finished, and it had barely been a week since Draco had been brought to the castle. He was staying in the old Ravenclaw tower temporarily. It was the safest place for him now; the old magic from Dumbledore would keep him in check for the mean time. Nobody was really sure what to do with Draco's useless body. Azkaban had been burnt down only the year before, and he was of no threat now as he was merely a lifeless doll.

They wouldn't let Hermione see him. She didn't try more than once, she didn't want for them to be too suspicious of her.

"I said I'd answer your question," Snape said now, voice reaching her just before she'd stepped out of the threshold out of his office with the vial in hand.

"Yes?" she prompted, back still turned to him.

"I did this because Draco was so much like his father, before Lucius turned bad. I've tried twice now to stop a Malfoy from turning into his father…but I've failed both times."

Hermione whirled around. "He's not his father!" she cried. "Despite everything, Draco's human! He isn't like that snake, Lucius! He isn't!"

Snape watched her with sadly deriding eyes that glinted in the flame of his candle. "You love him, don't you?" he whispered silkily.

"How can you love someone that's hurt so many people?" she asked, perhaps more to herself.

"The same way we love someone who has hurt nobody."

She stared at him, then stood and turned the doorknob. "Goodbye, Professor Snape."

"You know what you must do," he said in way of goodbye and only when he knew she was gone did he breathe, "Good luck."

* * *

She spent the next three hours trying to smile. Nervousness clawed at her but she had this all immaculately planned. She was in as public a place as possible – a press conference. Although she didn't say much (McGonagall did most the talking), she pulled all the right faces: grim, brave, determined, and sad. It all felt like a play. Ron and Ginny sat beside her, the three defeaters of the two Dark Lords, and Hermione knew that there was nobody except the regular guard and Draco in the castle.

* * *

Three hours later, Hermione slipped out to go to the bathroom. She checked herself in the mirror subconsciously, taking in deep breaths and wiping the sweat from her forehead. She couldn't quite believe she was going to do this.

She was wearing an expensive black robe, sent to her by one of her "admirers." She was, after all, one of the three who'd saved the Wizarding World. Most of the robes she'd received were terribly over-dramatic with bold Gryffindor colours or, to Hermione's dull dismay, many, many sizes too big. The black looked good on her and her hair was tame again. She'd had to portray herself to the World as someone strong and moving on. It was all a lie. She didn't feel strong at all, and she certainly hadn't moved on.

Hermione walked into the cubicle, and fingered the gold chain around her neck. Her time turner.

She turned it three hours back, and began what she hoped would be her last big adventure.

* * *

She held the black scarf over her head and tried to look as inconspicuous as possible. She watched her past self appear and sit down, and then slowly crept towards the door. Nobody noticed her. Between all the cameras' flashes and admiring fans, she exited insignificantly and began her descent towards Hogwarts School.

She ran most of the way. Hermione wasn't very fit but adrenaline pushed her on. She arrived, clutching a stitch in her side and gasping, but didn't hesitate to continue onward, into the school and to the tower. The guard was knocked out before he had even time to blink and she unlocked the door simply with her wand.

This was the easy part.

He was sitting against the wall, staring emptily in front of him. He hadn't been showered or changed. He wore the same clothes that he'd worn when she'd brought him to the castle. His hair was flat and slick on his head, skin irritated and red, and he didn't look like a proud Malfoy, but a pitiable war prisoner. Seeing someone who was usually so well-groomed like this made her sick. She edged towards him, but knew he was blind and deaf and dead to the world around him, and it was all her fault.

She was here to try and make things better, or so she told herself.

She felt an urge to talk to him but knew that logically there would be no point. The silence was deafening as she put one arm around him and hauled him up. He moved easily with her, like a dummy. If she tugged his body one-way, his body went that way. Awkwardly but without too much strain, she led him down to the Entrance hall. Then, gathering herself, she pushed them both through the huge oak doors to meet with the cold darkness.

She stood there with the cold wind blowing in her face, with one arm leading Draco, and mentally prepared herself.

She'd only performed this spell once before. She hoped it would work this time again.

"Dementia!"

What was not very well known (but which Hermione had thorough knowledge of) was the fact that Dementors are connected to each other. Linked. There isn't one Dementor, instead there's one being that can manifest themselves into many forms. There's no way to kill a Dementor – they don't have substance to kill. Unless one gives them some.

The Dementor appeared, and she didn't raise her wand, but the potion instead. Making sure her body shielded Draco, she threw it over the Dementor, where it seemed to hiss.

A horrible thought plagued her suddenly – what if this didn't work? The possibility had never really occurred to her properly before, as she'd just focused on making it become a reality. But…what if it didn't? What if, after everything, Draco's soul was still lost and she would always know it had been her fault?

The Dementor changed before her eyes. The large robe was still the same, and the frame. But it was no longer a Dementor. It was a human. And humans could be killed.

She advanced on it, and there was a knife in her trembling hand. She didn't want to kill _anything_…but she would. She was able to now. She was able to do lots of things she hadn't thought herself capable of.

It was harder than she'd thought. Hermione had to stab a couple of times, and the creature kept getting away. Merciless, she punctured its skin until it was on the very brink of death.

She held her wand to its throat now as it heaved painfully.

Draco was not far. She didn't take the wand away but tugged at Draco and he moved towards the tug aimlessly. She put her hand to the back of his head and put Draco's mouth to the strange human-creature-thing's mouth.

"Retrorsum!"

And that was all it took. One simple reversal spell. She knew instinctively it had worked. She imagined she could see the little orb form and transfer from mouth to mouth but she knew that was impossible – a soul wasn't something a mere teenage girl could see.

She heard the Dementor take its last human breath and die. The world seemed dizzy and unreal all of a sudden, and she fell to her knees just as she saw Draco Malfoy's head jerk up of its own accord.

Two grey, conflicting eyes met hers, and she fainted.

* * *

She woke up suddenly, and found herself in the Entrance hall. She was on the second-last step. Draco Malfoy was kneeling above her.

"Why?" He didn't ask whether she was all right, or whether everything had turned out okay, or if Harry was alive. Just one word.

"Why what?" She sat up and he leaned back to give her space, but his eyes never left her.

"Why did you give me my soul back? I deserved it, you know I did…the peace was welcoming. There I could forget all that I'd done…" He looked so haunted.

Irrationality rose in her chest and she slapped him. "Don't talk like that…" Her voice was shrill.

"You were happier with me gone." The blood had risen on his cheek from where she'd slapped him. His eyes bore into hers for answers, but how could she answer them when she wasn't even sure of the questions?

"No I wasn't!" Her voice was so high-pitched and she realised she was hiccupping and large trails of tears were flooding her face. Her throat felt constricted.

He closed his eyes, and when he opened them a minute later something had changed. The haunted and angry look was gone. He lifted his hand to wipe the tears from her face. Now all there was in his eyes was sadness.

"I never told you just how sorry I was…how sorry I _am_…"

"There isn't time. You have to go. They'll be back soon, and I have to get back to meet them."

"No, there's something I have to say. I've done some really bad things in my life, Hermione. I've never been a nice person. I bullied first years. I did as my father told me, without argument. I cheated at cards. I snuck in fire whiskey to the Common Room. I broke almost every rule in Hogwarts. I hurt girls, broke their hearts, just because I knew I was able to. I teased Pansy so much she tried to commit suicide, only Blaise found her in time.

"Then this Dark Lord thing came up. You have to understand. I didn't want to, at first. Voldemort had always taken a preference to me. He had big plans for me: I was to be his heir. My destiny was sealed, and I was too much of a wimp to fight it. I knew the advantages of power and, when I saw you on the train looking as good and different as you did, I knew I wanted you and I knew I would be able to have you soon. I knew Potter was to be kidnapped and I was delighted."

"Draco, none of this matters," she insisted, anxious. What would happen if she never returned from that cubicle? What would everyone think?

"It does, Hermione. Potter was kidnapped, and I was guarding him nightly. He begged me to let him free but when it was apparent that I was to do no such thing, he begged me to make sure you'd be okay. He begged me to make sure Voldemort never got his hands on you. He made me swear – and I did. This was before Voldemort had started.

"Harry was only with Voldemort for a week, right? Do you know what he did to Harry, to make him the way he was? The torture…he used to cry out your name so many times. He held on longer than anyone I've ever seen. He didn't give in for a long time, considering Voldemort's past victims. A day before I took you to him was the day Harry finally lost all that he believed in. I can't explain what Voldemort did to him but I know he watched everyone he loved die over and over again. He was brainwashed and…"

Draco swallowed, then continued.

"He did love you. When he was just damn good, pure Potter."

Hermione couldn't speak through her tears.

"I realised I loved you after, of course. I only wanted you at the start, mainly because Potter wanted you and you were looking so pretty. I was fascinated by your belly bar!" She laughed weakly. "But the love crept up so slowly I didn't even know it until my mother – interfering as she is – pointed it out to me."

There was silence and then he raised a hand to her cheek and wiped another tear away, looking at her as if entranced. "I never wanted you to get hurt."

"I know."

"I just wish there was some way you could forgive me."

"It's not that easy," she said shakily. "It'll never be that easy, will it? You _killed_, Draco. You've caused so many people I love so much pain."

He broke eye contact with her for the first time. "I can't tell you how ashamed I am of that now. It's like you gave me eyes, Granger. Before, it was like I was just wandering around blind. But now I can see all the colours, but so many it's painful…"

"You have to go, Draco!" she pleaded now. "Please!"

"Where do I go? Where do I have left to go?"

It was a good question, but she had thought about it a lot and knew the answer. "You have to go and change some of what you did. You have to – find forgiveness. You have to, in some way, forgive yourself."

"I have to prove myself," he re-defined.

"Yes," she answered, and there was no uncertainty in her tone now. She knew what had to be done, despite any unwilling sacrifices they both had to make.

"I never even got to kiss you," he told her.

"There isn't time!"

He wasn't listening. He kissed her, anyway. It was both desperate and gentle. A terrible tenderness, and she reached the terrible conclusion that they both loved each other but that it would never work. She was in love with him, it was so clear now. Because, despite everything, she could see something under the coldness that nobody else did. But he'd have to change, and she wasn't completely sure that he would be able to do it.

She realised he was crying as hardily as she was.

"I'll always be on the run," he murmured, even when the kiss had not quite ended.

"I know."

"Run with me?"

She hoped he was joking, because he must know her well enough now to know that she would never leave her life behind. How would Ron ever understand? What about her parents? How could she forgive herself if she just ran off thoughtlessly? He needed to change too, before she would ever be able to love him properly, or so she told herself. But Snape's words echoed in her ears: _The same way we love someone who has hurt nobody. _Was love really so much stronger than things like that? Could love really survive through all this darkness? And, if so, had she completely underestimated it?

Hermione felt like her head was whirling. She didn't understand anything.

"I'll come back," he told her now, breaking the kiss finally. "I'll come back for you. I will never forget you. I think I'll always love you. Despite everything, Hermione, I'm so grateful for all that I've learned from you, all that you've shown me…"

She began crying again as he stood up. He seemed to be fighting an inner battle, as if he couldn't drag his eyes off of her.

"Go," she pleaded, even though all she wanted to do was beg him to stay.

He turned his back. Hesitated. And then took one step. Looked back. Then took another one. And then he began walking, and her heart felt like it was breaking at every step.

And then he was gone, and she was left in the suddenly huge Entrance hall, alone.

* * *

She arrived back and opened the cubicle just to see her past self disappear. She spent the few minutes rearranging herself, washing her face and brushing her hair. She thought of nothing as she washed the tears away except for the fact that she was glad she didn't wear mascara or a mess would have been inevitable.

Taking a few deep breaths, she returned to the press conference, and tried to smile again.

"Hermione," Ron hissed, and gestured at his neck.

She looked down. Her time turner was sticking out. Cheeks reddening, she hastily tucked it in.

When they'd get home, they'd find the unconscious guard and a missing Malfoy. Rumours would fly, but no press would ever publish a rumour about Hermione being involved. After all, she was with them when it happened, and she was one of the defeaters of the two Dark Lords.

* * *

"It's weird, going home, isn't it?" she asked him idly, eyes grazing the grave for the last time until next September, when she and Ron would no doubt visit it weekly.

"This year felt like a lifetime," Ron replied. "Everything's changed, hasn't it?"

"No Dark Lords!" She smiled. "At least until next year!"

"But no Harry either," Ron said on a more sombre note.

"Everything's changed, really."

"And, surprisingly, your hair has managed to stay tame most of the time," Ron said, returning to good humour. It was their last day together until next September, after all.

"And there's the whole Blaise/Ginny relationship, which I frankly never saw coming!" she exclaimed.

"He's mad about her, actually. And she's mad about him. They're…nice together. He makes her smile again." Ron frowned while saying the words.

"You're okay with your little sister going out with a Slytherin?" she shouted in mock surprise.

"Well," he frowned again as if trying to formulate the words, "we've all grown up now, aren't we? You can't just judge people on what house they're in or who they're friends with or who their parents are, can you? You have to judge them on something deeper than that, don't you?"

She looked at him in real surprise this time. "You really have grown up, Ron."

"We all had to, didn't we?" Ron said sadly. Hermione couldn't find the right reply, so he continued, "C'mon, let's go. It's getting cold, and you know how McGonagall is about us staying away from the castle for too long."

She didn't want to go, not yet. "Harry was tortured, Ron. Really badly. He didn't want to give in. He tried not to. He didn't just go to the Dark Side. Voldemort tortured him so badly that he wasn't really even human at the end. He didn't do it out of choice."

"Of course," Ron said, and Hermione was shocked to see he was smiling. "Of course that was how Harry went out, Hermione. I can't believe you'd think any differently."

Hermione was supposed to be the clever, intelligent one, but at that moment, she saw just how stupid she really was.

* * *

"Granger! Granger! How are ya? Listen, I'm so glad you're back! It's been so borin' around here without ya!" Phil's eager shining face came into view as she stepped out of her parents' car.

"Hello Phil," she said. She'd forgotten all about her first boyfriend whom Draco had made her dump in such an unpleasant way but who had obviously forgiven her for it. It seemed like a different lifetime, when she'd spent mornings cycling along beside Phil at six in the morning as he did his paper round. So much had happened.

She wasn't the same person.

"Listen, I know there was all that rubbish between us when ya went to school, but I was thinkin' we could have a kinda free relationship. I mean, if ya want to finish it before ya go back to school, that's fine. I just really wanna start spending' time with ya again, Granger. I miss ya!"

But what would be the point? What feelings could she have for short (had he always been so much shorter than her?), excitable Phil, when she knew that Malfoy was out there proving himself for her? Things were too intense and too complicated, and Hermione just needed to be on her own for a while, to sort her own feelings out.

"I'm sorry, Phil. I can't explain, but…things have changed. I've changed."

"Me too!" he said, and she remembered instantly how he never gave into anything without a fight. "I got a new job! No more morning cycles, unless ya want to!"

"I got to go," she said, smiling kindly. "I got to unpack."

"But can't we…?"

"I have lots of studying to do," she told him. "It's my exams next year, and I've really fallen behind this year. I'm sorry, Phil."

And so she walked away and left him blinking after her.

* * *

Hermione stood in front of the mirror.

She had changed a lot over this year. She appreciated her parents more. When she saw her dad's balding head through the crowd, she'd wanted to scream with delight. When she'd seen her mum there in her old fashioned clothes and a smile, ready to greet her daughter, she'd ran up and threw herself into a hug. Her parents didn't quite understand her attitude (she was always quite grouchy when she got back from Hogwarts) but they were thrilled. They always were when they got their little girl back for a few weeks.

She'd changed so much that she hardly recognised herself. But she recognised the strength in the girl's eyes, and the determination. Because Hermione would live her life. She knew that life would move on. She wouldn't let any past events bother her, and she wouldn't sink into depression. She couldn't afford to anyway, she hadn't been lying to Phil when she said she had study to do for her NEWTs. She didn't even know what career she wanted to pursue yet or anything, and Hermione hated being unprepared.

She lifted up her top and saw her belly bar protruding from her belly button. It suddenly seemed tacky and old. It used to be a symbol of her rebellion in the fifth year summer, a sign to herself that she was more than just a know-it-all bookworm. But she didn't need an earring in her belly to tell her this anymore. She knew more than an earring could ever tell her. She felt too old to have such a thing, and too much had happened with it in. Perhaps it was cursed. Maybe it brought trouble to her. But then, it had brought Draco to her (for he'd been "fascinated" by it) but after all, Draco was the perfect definition of trouble.

Hermione stared at it for another minute, and then slid it out and placed it on her dresser.

Maybe she'd put it back in the morning. Or maybe let it close. She wasn't sure.

She knew, either way, that she would be okay.

Maybe Draco would never come back, maybe he'd find a girl who it wasn't so complicated to love, and live happily ever after, and Hermione would be happy and moved on and maybe marry a man perfect for her, one who read the same books as she did and worried as much. Or maybe Draco would come back, and he'd be a changed man and they'd run off together, to a private place where they'd never be disturbed again and live happily ever after together.

She knew, either way, that she, Hermione Granger, would be okay, and happy.

* * *

_And that's the end of Deal With The Devil! Thanks so much to Jamie (Ptrst) who beta read these last two chapters for with perfection! What a legend! _

_Also, thanks to:_

_Seghen, Pink-Pantheress-Princess, Magical Flame, Green pea soup, Lisi, pHaToM-ChIcK, Unspeakable Mae, and I'll never tell (whose review I received this morning!)_

_Thanks for everyone's help with this story. Some stories come naturally, and some are just that bit more difficult to write. This story started 05-11-03, so that's like nearly two years! But I'm so glad I got to finish it! I'm still a bit unhappy with the few of the earlier chapters, so I might go back and have a look at them, but this story is OFFICIALLY finished! Yay!_

_What did you think? Please, please, please review!_

_Now that I have this and Vulgarities Of Life (recently re-titled Insanity of Life out of the way, I can focus on my other stories! Three's near its end too, I think!_


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